An Avalanche
by Lady Hallen
Summary: Fem!Harry. Heather wants to hide in the bottom of the ocean. Hermione wants to change the world. Draco wants to be seen as himself and not his father. And Luna? Well...she's Luna. An idea starts a chain of events and none of them regret it.
1. Ideas that just happened

**AN: Guys, please enjoy this. I have read enough unfinished LOTR x HP stories that I know how it feels so I will finish this. It wont follow the story of LOTR, but it will brush against it vaguely.**

**Please R & R.**

* * *

It started off as an idea but they were all getting desperate, especially after Draco nearly killed himself experimenting on potions. Luna had arrived and brought supplies, asking if it was acceptable as a token of her acceptance, and is she could please stay?

But let's go back to the reason why everyone was desperate.

After the war was over, everyone clamored for change and everyone wanted Heather to lead it. Heather was cranky, tried and just wanted to go to the bottom of the ocean to rest and hide for the rest of eternity.

Hermione felt nearly the same way but she wanted to teach and change people, especially the orphans.

"This wouldn't happen if people only have proper care for children," she confided to Heather one night. "I probably won't be much use in taking care of children, but I can change adoption laws and orphanage requirements."

But Hermione couldn't change that in wizarding Britain. She was only a muggleborn. So she settled in Grimmauld place with Heather and researched laws – seething all the while about injustice.

Draco ended up with them by sheer accident and Potter luck. Heather was shopping, in disguise of course, when she came across Draco looking harried. He was exiting the apothecary and the people looked like they wanted to stone him. Something stirred in Heather and reminded her that no matter everything else, Draco was still a distant cousin and didn't deserve to be treated that way.

She stopped him with a hand on his arm and he nearly flinched. He controlled himself and asked with dignity, "Yes, may I help you?"

Heather smiled to reassure him. "Malfoy, don't act all stiff on me."

"I beg your pardon?" he said.

Heather allowed her glamour to falter for a second, enough for him to see her eyes and her scar.

His eyes went round. "Potter," he muttered. "What on earth are you up to?"

She grinned and locked an arm around his waist. She ignored his indignant posturing. "Come with me," she said, looking like she was his girlfriend. "By the way, did you manage what you wanted or did the people chase you out?"

Draco managed a smile. "They didn't chase me out. It was a tactical retreat. And yes, I got what I wanted."

She took him to Grimmauld place and convinced Hermione. Umm, perhaps it wasn't proper convincing but she just pushed Draco in the Library and Hermione, buried under mounds of books, didn't even notice him.

Draco just sat across her and occupied himself with a potions journal. When she finally surfaced and saw him, she blinked several times and said, "Oh. Did Heather bring you here?"

He nodded guardedly. Hermione just hummed and returned the books with a flick of her hand. She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen.

Kreacher was overjoyed to have another Black to serve and went on a cleaning spree. It only took a couple of days and Draco lost his pinched and wary look and started to smile more.

But weeks coped up in an old house could drive anyone crazy and that's when things started to get desperate. They didn't want to go out to face the world. Grimmauld place had become, for them, the bottom of the ocean.

And then Luna came.

Her arrival wasn't all that shocking, what shocked the occupants of Grimmauld place was the fact that she could see the door at all.

"Luna?!" Heather exclaimed.

She stood there, dirty blonde hair long and tangled, silvery gray eyes protuberant and unseeing. "The nargles led me to you," then her eyes focused with dizzying intensity on Heather. "My father has been taken over by the wrackspurts. I don't think I can stay with him anymore."

A sudden understanding dawned on Heather. Luna's father had sold them to Death Eaters and it seemed that Luna could not forgive him that fact. Heather smiled in understanding and commiseration.

It took another week and then Hermione slammed a book on the kitchen table.

"Damn it, Granger," Draco cursed. He had almost spilled his soup since one of his hands was in a sling due to a recent potions accident.

"Listen up," Hermione said. "I found this locked in a vault under the Black library."

Heather felt her eyebrow climb up, but she said nothing, because Hermione was clearly on a roll.

"It's a book on dimensions travel, specifically on how the Veil of Death was created."

Luna's eyes focused on Hermione. "There are no hyvolspaths in the Veil of Death, Hermione."

Draco and Hermione turned to look at Heather since she seemed to be the only one who understood Luna's cryptic statements that sounded vaguely like prophecy.

Heather touched Luna's hand and smiled. "She means wizards. If you want to move there, there wont be any of our kind." The understanding worked if she was looking into Luna's eyes and it sometimes worked if she was touching Luna. It frustrated Hermione since neither of them could explain it to her.

Draco grinned. "No wizards." He looked hapy at the prospect. Well, he would be, seeing as he was a pseudo-criminal among wizards.

Heather laughed at him. "You don't have to be so happy about it," then she turned to Hermione. "What do we do to help? And what materials do you need?"

Hermione's lips pursed in a wonderful imitation of McGonagall. "Well, that's just it. It's frigging hard." She grinned at their surprise when she cursed. "Listen to this. Corpse of evil, Heart of Bitterness, Bones of Loyalty and Blood of Rebirth."

Draco snorted. "Merlin. It's like its saying, 'This is extremely hard. Don't try it'"

Heather ignored him. "I know someone who would have a corpse of evil."

Luna nodded. "Yes. He was evil. The moment he rent his soul, the very essence of magic deemed him evil."

"But the problem would be getting it, seeing as the Unspeakables have it under lock and key," she added.

Hermione spluttered. "Wait. Rent his soul. You're talking about Voldemort."

Draco flinched and a hand went to his forearm. "Don't say his name, it hurts." All three girls looked at him and he nodded earnestly. "It does. He made it so we would fear to say it."

"Ingenious," Hermione muttered. "Fear of the name indeed. But how do we get his corpse?"

Luna patted her hand. "The Dragon and I will take care of it," she muttered.

He looked surprised. "Me? What for?"

"You have his mark. You can break the wards on it." Luna said. It was the clearest they had ever heard her speak. Then her eyes unfocused again. "We must hurry. A lynch is looking for us."

Heather didn't need to touch Luna this time. She was too shocked and angry to notice this though. "Kingsley! The minister is looking for us?"

Everybody exploded into action. Hermione volunteered to grab supplies and no one argues with her seeing as she was the best with glamour spells. Heather went to Gringotts and Luna dragged Draco to the ministry to grab the Corpse of Evil.

On the way back from Gringotts, inspiration struck Heather like a bolt of lightning.

"Gosh," she gasped. "But I have to talk to the others to be sure." Then she paused. "But if we do this, isn't it desecration?"

She dithered on that the whole way home.

* * *

The security on Voldemorts body was apparently close to nil.

"I mean, who would want to steal the Dark Lords body?" Hermione mused.

Heather fidgeted and dithered until Luna poked her. She yelped and frowned whilst rubbing the spot. "Guys, I might know the second ingredient but…I don't want to use his heart somehow."

Hermione sighed irritably. "Heather, if you don't say it, I'll sic Draco on you."

"Oi!"the aforementioned man exclaimed.

Both of them ignored him.

"Don't argue, they're just using you as fish bait," Luna told him in her soft and dreamy voice.

Heather was covering her face with her hands. "It's Snape. The Heart of Bitterness. I know most of his life story so I'm sure."

Draco nearly growled. "No. We're not using my godfathers heart. Next."

Heather gave Hermione the "I told you so" look. "Well, I know someone else, but I think she's still alive."

"Who?"

"Aunt Petunia."

* * *

Heather sat next to Luna, feeling small and insignificant. Luna hummed serenely while Hermione and Draco yelled at each other at the top of their lungs. Well, Hermione shrieked and Draco growled and hissed alternately.

"Don't worry, there's a third one," Luna said softly. She somehow said this when both combatants were taking a breath so everyone heard her, no matter how softly it was said.

"What?" they both rounded on her.

Heather, very near the line of fire, tried not to flinch.

"Who?" Hermione demanded.

"The beetle, of course. Her soul is black with bitterness," she answered.

For once, Hermione and Heather understood perfectly. "Oh! Rita Skeeter!" they chorused, grinning at each other.

"What?" Draco bleated again.

* * *

Rita Skeeter's burial had been lost among the multitude of funerals that Heather attended but once Draco and Hermione started to rack their brains on where she was buried, Heather remembered the day of the burial vividly.

"It was a Saturday," she piped up, interrupting their brainstorming. "And it was raining."

Hermione, who was more used to Heather's methods than Draco, stomped on his foot to prevent him from saying anything snide.

"Yes, go on Feather," she encouraged.

"There were poplar trees and an old witch on a wheel-chair, crying her heart out. There were stone angels and twelve roses in Hermione's hair."

Upon hearing that, Hermione took on a _Eureka!_ pose. "Of course! On that day, there were twelve funerals. She was buried with the Abbots!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course. She can remember the kind and number of flowers but she forgets the name of the cemetery. No wonder you get along with Loo – Ouch! – Lovegood."

* * *

The Bones of Loyalty, was of course, the one that stumped Heather. The only one she knew was Sirius and he had no corpse to steal bones from. And she wasn't sufficiently sure if being a werewolf would affect the rituals.

Draco then broke in that he had an idea for who it would be, but it would need their trust on his judgment.

"Let it out," Hermione demanded.

"Vincent Crabbe," he said quietly.

The urge to laugh was suddenly quashed with the vivid memory of how Crabbe died. But Hermione had a questioning look pasted on her face. So Draco elaborated. "You might think they were dumb apes assigned by my father but they often supported me in everything I did and didn't hesitate to call me a selfish brat when I needed to hear it and gave me a good thumping when I didn't listen."

Hermione was skeptical but didn't complain or say her doubts were Draco could hear it.

The blood of rebirth had all of them stumped. Luna was no help since she saw a pack of tarot cards in the Library. Hermione started some of the preparations she could do with just the three ingredients. When they finally were on the verge of trashing the idea, Luna surfaced form her cards and asked what all the arguments was about, seeing as the Blood of Rebirth was Heather.

There was a sudden silence at the announcement and then the demands started.

"What do you mean rebirth? Heather, what aren't you telling us?" Hermione demanded.

* * *

Hermione ignored Heather for as long as was possible, but occasionally casted her worried looks. Draco, who knew about keeping secrets, just smiled and kept her company, for once not brewing potions, to talk to her.

Heather, for her part, was packing the books under the watchful eye of Kreacher. He had heard their plans of dimension travel and ambushed Heather. Kreacher had known she was the softest and least logical when face with an ambush and so secured his own ticket to the dimension travel that way.

Part of his demands was not to leave the books. Heather agreed since it was logical. Heather did not agree on brining Walbruga Black. Kreacher only acquiesced when Heather pointed out that she may not survive the transfer.

"What are you brining, Draco?" she asked the potioneer.

Draco looked up from his notes. "Potion ingredients, I suppose. I'm resigning myself to the fact that there might not be any of the more specialized ingredients. But there might be new ones too, so I'll need my potions journals."

Heather giggled. She looked up from the books, while Kreacher tittered at the interruption. "Draco, you might as well look up the composition of ink and paper while you're at it. You might run out of it."

An alarmed look came over his face and he ran off, leaving her alone for the first time in a couple of days. Heather looked to Luna, who was shuffling her cards.

"Is this how you feel every time?" she asked Luna.

Luna just laid out her next deck, facing the Joker towards Heather.

* * *

It wasn't an arch. It didn't have a veil. It was simply a doorway, square and forbidding. A tattered cloth hung near the top. It made the entire thing feel like a junior Veil of Death.

It was also humming.

"Hermione?" Heather muttered. The, _are you sure?_ was unsaid.

Draco was in apparent agreement. He edged away from it warily. Luna had no such qualms. She nodded at Hermione and jumped in immediately. Everybody gave a yelp.

"Luna!" Heather gasped. She followed quickly and a tugging at the back of her skirt told her that Kreacher was also with her. Vaguely, she heard Draco and Hermione behind her.

The inside of the veil was different. It wasn't specifically nothingness since she could feel something occasionally brush her. There was also voices and then singing. Instinctively, she followed it. It sounded like Luna. It also sounded like Fawkes.

There was a falling sensation and then dew drops and grass.

Heather opened her eyes and it was to an extremely blue sky.

* * *

**Guys, I would appreciate it very much if you review.**

**next update would probably be next week, at the latest. I have tests, you know?**

**And if you people want pairings, state it now or forever hold your piece.**

**~Lady Hallen**


	2. Settling in

**Someone asked what part of the movie this is. To prevent repetitive questioning, I'll just say this once. It's part of the movie-verse. Pre-movie to be exact.**

**By the way, if you lot want pairings, you really ought to say so. I don't have bias when it comes to the pairings in LOTR so anything goes…just make sure it is feasible. I'll try, but I won't accommodate all requests.**

**Lastly, when you're a guest, and you review, place a name other than guest so I can atleast mention you in my author notes.**

**Please R&R.**

* * *

"_Being deeply loved gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."_

_-Lao Tzu-_

* * *

It was instinct that first ruled Heather when she first woke and being honed by years in the war, it was to find what was hostile and what wasn't.

She catalogued her surroundings and her friends and slowly went to her feet. By the number of bodies around her, all of them had survived the journey.

It was a forest, that much was clear. The air was clearer, signalling of a significant distance from civilization.

"Guys!" she hissed. "Guys!"

The girls didn't stir. Draco only rolled over. The one who answered was…was that Kreacher?!

"Kreacher!" she gasped. "Kreacher!"

The poor house elf didn't even remotely like a house elf. He had grown a good and healthy amount of hair. His wrinkles had smoothed out. In fact, Kreacher did not look like a Kreacher. At all. He looked deaged. Creepier still were his eyes, They seemed smarter somehow.

"Miss Heather," Keracher started and then he squeaked when he heard his voice. It had gone smoother and less croaky. With wide eyes, he pointed to Heather's hair.

A quick scramble to a nearby river explained why. The uncontrollable black hair had smoothed and lengthened. Streaks of blue, indigo and purple had shot into it. And her skin had turned a proper shade of fair, not the colour of one who had hidden for a long time in an old house.

"Buggering figs!" she muttered.

She hurried to wake the others. They all had changes. The most obvious were Draco's eyes. The silver had a shimmering and obvious glitter to it. You couldn't help but notice and look at it. Hermione's hair had grown longer and the curl more manageable. Luna, as far as they could see, had no changes at all.

"This is all swell," Draco drawled. "There goes the plan of staying discreet."

Hermione scowled, in a foul mood since she hadn't known the change would occur.

"We should find shelter," she said.

"Summoning stones?" Luna said.

Heather nodded. "But is it wise to make it out of stone? What if it is too hot?"

Draco snorted. He looked around incredulously as though to emphasize the point. "Potter, we're in a forest. It would be hard pressed to be hot."

Hermione brandished her wand and gave a tentative _accio_. A small stone came flying to her hand.

"That's gonna be useful," Draco laughed.

Hermione rounded on him. "Shut up, Malfoy! You ought to try it if you're so clever! Go on!"

It turned into an impromptu competition between the both of them. Heather rolled her eyes and went to find food.

* * *

_**The House**_, as it was named for simple lack of imagination, was finished within a day. The competition between Hermione and Draco proved useful in that aspect.

Kreacher was the one who assembled everything. When he saw enough stones were polished, he waved his hands like a conductor for an orchestra and everything turned to a beautiful little stone cottage. That stopped the rivalry quickly enough. Everybody started thinking on what needed to be doing.

"Bookshelves," Hermione said. "A lot of it."

Draco nodded in agreement. "Maybe a potions lab."

Heather looked skyward. "Merlin, the both of you! It needs bedrooms! A kitchen! And maybe a living room!"

Kreacher looked at the cottage and raised an eyebrow.

Hermione and Draco went back to summoning boulders.

* * *

The disappearance of Luna in the middle of the finishing touched had Hermione in a tizzy. Heather and Draco ignored her, knowing that Luna could take care of herself. In the Battle of the Ministry, Luna was one of the few of her friends who came out of it not needing to go to the Hospital Wing. Another memory was of Luna sitting in the middle of a ring of unconscious Death Eaters.

They were in the middle of setting the ward stones when Luna came back with a skip in her step and a snowy eagle-owl on her shoulder, blinking golden eyes.

"Hey Luna," Heather said before Hermione could start shrieking her displeasure. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Hafny," Luna said, petting the owl. "Her relatives all live in the forest."

Before the confusion could settle in, a large golden eagle landed in front of Luna. Draco gave a yelp and pushed Heather behind him. Hermione, a couple of feet away, apparated in front of Luna.

"Wha - ?" Hermione started.

Luna clucked. "Don't be so dramatic. He's the king of the eagles. He's just making sure you aren't going to poach on their nest."

Heather unfroze behind Draco and stepped in front of the golden eagle. She looked in its massive eye and bowed, presenting her vulnerable neck. She heard Draco make a strangled whimper and Hermione gasp. Then the eagle nosed her hair and she straightened.

"We won't touch your eggs, your highness. And we can protect this forest from unfriendly humans," she said.

The eagle gave a warble and a series of clicks. Luna translated, "It would be a great boon." He then left as abruptly as he had arrived.

Heather found herself hugged and squeezed simultaneously by Draco and Hermione.

"You arse!" Hermione said. She was so frazzled that all curse words had flown out the window. "My poor heart!"

"Damn it, Potter," Draco was also saying at the same time. "And here I thought the prophet was lying when they said you were a nutter."

"Guys," Heather chided. "I trust Luna. And she wasn't alarmed, so…"

It was obvious that Hermione nearly bit her tongue to keep her comments to herself. Draco was in the opposite frame of mind. His shoulders were shaking so much in trying to repress his laughter. Tears had leaked out of his extraordinary eyes.

"Only you, Potter. Only you," Draco said breathlessly.

Despite all distractions, they finished _**The House**_. Heather dragged her bed to the living room and Hermione followed. Luna dragged both Draco and her bed and all four of them cuddled in front of their small hearth.

"Sooo," Hermione started. "Is the fact that we are technically free sunk in yet?"

Silence, then…

"I think I'm still in shock," Draco said. "I mean, I know I don't want to live in a bloody forest forever. Loo – Ouch Potter! – Lovegood probably might. I'm a social person.:

Heather and Luna exchanged amused glances. "Oh Draco," Heather said. "I know that. I just think…is that…what I mean is…"

"Heather!" Hermione interrupted.

"I just think that this should be like a place where the world won't bother us," she finished in a stutter. "A place where we can go to if it becomes too much."

Another silence.

"Isn't that the idea, though?" Hermione asked. "A place that's just ours. We can bring others if we make another house but this place is…"

"Sanctuary," Luna supplied.

* * *

The idea had merit. But several factors made them tentative on exploring the world outside their forest. There was the lack of information for one.

"It would be nice if someone was an animagus," Hermione pouted. "But I don't think we have the books for that."

"We could ask the animals, right Luna?" Heather said.

Luna looked up from braiding horse hair she had found in the forest. "Yeah. I think. But Hafny likes to talk to Heather. She says that you smell like warm nests."

Draco snorted in laughter at the hastily concealed look of affront on Heathers face.

"Alright. I'll go talk to Hafny. You ought to translate for me though."

Luna gave Heather one of her patented "confused" looks. "What do you mean, feather? Talk to her as you would to Hedwig."

The reminder of the faithful snowy owl that had fallen in war trying to save her from a killing curse made Heather freeze. Hedwig was her first friend and always seemed to be smarter than any other owl. To have her compared to another owl so callously made anger burn in her fiercely.

"Luna," Heather said in a tightly controlled voice. "Please don't mention Hedwig."

Luna sighed at Heather. "I am honouring your fallen companion, not replacing her. Your anger is making you irrational."

Heather ignored her and stepped out of their cozy house, taking deep breaths as she did so. She told herself that it wasn't Luna's fault. Her anger was apparently irrational and didn't care.

Remembering how she had called Hedwig, Heather gave two sharp whistles. A fluffy white owl flew in front of her. In reflex, her arm shot out as a perch.

"Hoot?" Hafny said, wings settling.

It felt like a hello. This was how she used to talk to Hedwig – just feelings and impressions. Hermione had said that it was the first part of a familiar bond. Hedwig had died before they could finalize it.

Hafny…was a potential familiar. But Heather didn't know did her heart could take another one so soon.

"Hello. Luna said your name is Hafny?" she said softly. "Can you tell me about this world?"

There was the impression of castles and meadows, of high mountains and dark forests. There were trees that moved and tall people that sang to the trees. There was also the furry short men and the men that lived in the castles.

And then, looking accidentally into Hafny's golden eyes, she could see in her mind the running horses and the people mounted astride it, holding bows and arrows, hunting her.

She jolted out of Hafny's mind with a jerk. The shock of being hunted had broken the connection.

"Chirp!" Hafny cried out. It was annoyance and concern rolled into one sound.

"I'm sorry," Heather panted. "You surprised me. What else is left?"

Hafny nibbled on her fingers before starting again.

This time, there was only the dark and dangerous beasts, the evil mutated orcs and the neglected men of the South.

"Oh," she muttered. "That explains plenty."

Heather strode back to the house with Hafny on her arm.

"Draco," she said, startling the blonde man. "Can you teach me how to wield a sword?"

* * *

The information Hafny shared with the others had Hermione in a happy state, but no one could be quite sure since the brunette was frazzled and muttering formulae.

Luna had nodded and asked if she could join the sword lessons.

It was Hafny that suggested contact stones. Well, maybe not the very idea. But the feeling that Hafny emitted was something along the lines of "Nestling leaving, no communication?"

"It must be something mobile," Hermione said. "But tangible enough for runes."

"Pretty," Luna interjected. "But light."

Draco was horrified. "I am not wearing anything ugly. Lovegood, you actually make sense."

Luna beamed at him.

Heather sighed, feeling very put upon. "Guys, if it is too pretty, then thieves might get interested. It has to be something found everywhere."

They eventually settled on a badly burnished copper that didn't shine but passed Draco's standards of beauty. Luna helped by just _finding_ the books that Hermione would need. Since they hadn't fully unpacked all the books from the Black library yet, it was quite a feat.

They usually had "pile-ups" as Hermione called it. They gathered in front of the fire and reminisced of the past. It was usually a quiet affair but once or twice, someone opened a topic and in-depth discussions would happen.

In one of their more significant pile-ups, Heather restarted the topic of leaving and exploring.

"I entered Hafny's mind by accident," she said. "And I saw a darkness that made me angry. I want to banish it."

Hermione looked shocked. "Feather! I thought you were done with that?"

It was Luna that answered, giving Hermione a disapproving look. "That isn't a very nice thing to say. Feather always wants to help, she just can't stand the notoriety that comes with it. And she especially hates cages."

Heather tried not to squirm since Luna had hit the nail on the head. She had forgotten how blunt Luna could be when doling out the truth.

Hermione flushed. "Sorry, feather. Go on."

She cleared her throat. "These slimy creatures are attacking villages. I want to help. It will probably be a thankless job, but it will be worth it." Then she looked at Hermione hesitantly. "I'll still help you with your plan to help the children…if you want me to…?"

Hermione gave a squeal of pleasure. "Yes, yes!"

Luna piped up, "And I'll stay here, of course."

All of them, and yes, even Draco, looked shocked. "Luna," someone said.

"Someone has to stay here," she continued firmly. "And my gift of truth-telling isn't welcomed by everyone. Not all people have hearts as open as yours."

Surprisingly, it was Draco that spoke. "Lovegood! Stop that nonsense. You can't stay here, and Potter can't go adventuring forever. Both of you will have rotations."

And then, as though he expected _her_ to argue, Draco arched an eyebrow at Heather. She just grinned at him proudly.

"Then," Luna said in a small voice. "Maybe I can wander the forests of this world and meet all kinds of creatures."

Nobody mentioned the unshed tears that shone in Luna's eyes and if they huddled closer together, no one felt the need to say anything about that either.

* * *

When the coins were finished, Draco was the first to leave. Luna asked one of the eagles and they agreed to carry him to the nearest village.

The girls watched him walk away with solemn eyes, thinking different thoughts but all wondering if they would ever see him again.

When Hermione eventually left and followed Draco, Heather commandeered the books that she had in her room and made a personal communications stone between Luna and her.

"We can always apparate," Heather told Luna. "But this way, we can organize shifts."

Luna nodded. "And this way, you can teach me the language."

It was the only then that Heather set off, with Luna a slight figure watching her go.

* * *

**I realized that the HP elements in this story are rather scarce. Well, I will drop hints and pieces of it as I go along.**

**And I felt like I wasn't doing Luna justice. So I am going to add more lines for her character as we go along. She was described in the book as "one of the most perceptive people with the unnerving habit of saying the truth."**

**If you have any other questions, please PM me.**

**~Lady Hallen**


	3. Change

**Story notes: **

**Heather is called feather by her friends due to an accident. I'll make it an omake if I have time. It is NOT a typographical error.**

**Any more questions will be welcomed and stated in the Story notes of the next chapter.**

**Please R&R.**

* * *

"_Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed, citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."_

_-Margaret Mead-_

* * *

It says something when you don't feel fear when there's a really sharp sword going at you, Heather thought as she ducked and parried.

It had been nearly six months since she had left the Sanctuary and careful questioning had led her to the Dúnedain. How that happened was a blur of horseback riding and spying at people while nursing a bitter tankard of ale. One event did stand out clearly and that was being chased by a pack of wolves. She had managed to down three of its members and then they came and helped her. In the middle of the skirmish (ones that involved proper armies and countries were called battles; apparently), her cowl had fallen and revealed she was a girl. The three men had gaped for a minute before interrogating her.

"What were you doing?" they had asked.

"Avenging my family," she answered, a mulish tilt to her chin. They all exchanged glances.

"Avenging!" the youngest of the three of them muttered. "You would have likely joined them before the day was over."

Heather knew she was making stories in her mind to stay in character, and she allowed the story to become her. The righteous female anger swept through her. She was young enough – and short enough – to act out the adolescent angst. Besides, these men felt like old souls.

"I know," she cried out, real tears stinging her cheeks. "I'm likely to get myself killed, but who would teach a girl? I'm doing the best I can!"

The encampment turned slightly awkward. The young man was on the receiving end of many irritated glances, but no one spoke to reprimand him.

A series of arguments later and she ended up in the company of a rough riding group of men. They set a harsh pace and looked at her with respect when she did not complain of the lack of comforts.

The three of them had a rotation in teaching her. There were survival skills, learning how to distinguish sounds and the Art of Staying Still and Quiet. And lastly, there was sword fighting. Draco's lessons were quickly trashed and they all scoffed at her etiquette.

"It's sword fighting, not sword play. It's a choice between your life and your enemies'" they told her.

Initially, the gaudy sword of Gryffindor received some insult from the youngest of the rangers. But after she divulged that it was her ancestors' sword, (which it technically was) passed down from father to son, he clammed up. That was also the reason why the men were calling her Gryffon. They had asked after the runes engraved on the sword and she had translated it to them in Westron.

"It is 'Gryffindor'," she explained. "My family values bravery, courage and honor. To be the last heir…it is a heavy sword to bear."

There was understanding in their eyes, as well as sadness. In those times, it made up for all the bruises and saddle-sores she received. There was a sense of companionship amongst these warriors that felt wonderful to her. Hermione and Draco, heck, even Luna, weren't warriors. These men were and that made her settle into her own skin.

Sometimes though, that made Heather irritable to see how other people treated the Dúnedain.

"Do you not complain?" she asked their sort-of leader.

He had simply snorted. "No. What use would that be? This is a job we have tasked ourselves when we lost our lands."

It reminded Heather of the Girl-who-lived title, the position that made one into a pariah. But Heather had not wanted it and found the title shoved on her anyway. These men could have left these people to the wolves (literally and figuratively) but instead embraced their status as a pariah.

Her heart swelled for the three battle-hardened warriors and she impulsively gave them a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

Draco's news came sparingly, and when it did, it was a wealth of information.

_Potter,_

_I hope this finds you well._

_I have settled in one of the many towns of a country named Rohan. They are truly not suspicious of me since I have made myself seemingly blind. These eyes are a damn nuisance sometimes. But this is more than my eyes becoming noticeable. I have started to feel a difference but I will discuss it with you when we meet again in person. Granger, no doubt, will try and dissect it for me. I will spare her the trouble and do it myself._

_These coins…I am wary of using it. It feels like it is giving off a magical aura. If anything is watching, I do not want it to know, or see._

_The chicken – damn it bird! – will serve as our owl. She seems to relish the exercise._

_D.M._

_P.S. I'll warn the others, don't panic yourself._

The letter arrived in one of their older, more recycled parchments. The rangers raised an eyebrow at Hafny but said nothing at the unadulterated joy on her face.

"She's a friend and a messenger," she explained.

They were nice enough not to interrogate her more intensively.

Hermione's letter was curt, which was uncharacteristic of her…to put it mildly. Upon examining the letter, she realized why. She was writing in the code that they invented during the war. It involved Ancient Runes, numbers that represented and scrambled the alphabet and several gibberish shapes that made things complicated. The thing was, three symbols could state an entire sentence.

The letter was summed up as simply, _"Need your help. Near Rohan, western point. Met with Draco. We need to talk. 3 weeks."_

There was a sense of urgency in the letter and that was worrying to Heather. They had only parted for eight months. Not even near a year.

"Trouble?" they asked as her brow furrowed.

"One of the last that remain of my family is asking for help," she explained. "It feels…worried."

The youngest one snorted. "Hah! Most likely about you."

She scowled at him. Between the three men, he had the least tact, but that was still polite by the standards of most people.

"Do you need to leave?"

Heather sighed. She knew that she would eventually leave them but the sudden arrival of the letter reminded her of it.

"Do you know where Rohan is?" she asked instead.

Eventually, they parted but not before she met their captain, Aragorn. The man had taken in the additional person in the expected encampment without a single reaction.

"Guests?" he had asked in his soft, unused voice.

"She's leaving soon," his second-in-command answered.

Aragorn had cocked an eyebrow at the almost defensive note in his voice but said nothing of it, he had noted the girl's calloused hands and the easy way the sword hung at her side, even if it was rather…noticeable. She was a warrior, and felt like a kindred spirit. For that alone, sharing a fire needed no explanation.

* * *

Heather learned a lot of curse words from the Gryffindor boys and she felt like she used it all up in the journey towards Hermione. It was good that Hafny guided her but owls didn't like slowing down, which frustrated both of them. When fare started to get scarce, Hafny hunted for the both of them.

"I truly dislike horseback riding," were the first words out of her mouth.

Surprise, surprise, Draco was there!

"What?" Heather demanded when they remained silent, staring at her.

Draco approached her patting the top of her head. "She hasn't grown taller."

Hermione unhooked Heathers cowl and examined the hair. "It's gotten more colorful. There's now cream mixed in it."

Heather was tired and saddle-sore. Anger was quick to surge through her at being treated like a science experiment without the proper petri dish. "What is going on?" she exploded.

Draco sighed and sat on his haunches. Hermione was the one to explain things. The scene was familiar and only lacked Luna and they would be back in Grimmauld Place.

"We're changing. Some of them are physical but some of them are also internal," Hermione said bluntly. "Its worrying, feather, because we don't know why it's happening."

A niggle of doubt and worry wedged itself at the back of Heathers mind. "What changed for you, Hermione?"

The brunette started pacing. "I've grown taller. I mean, I know I wasn't exceptional in height or something, but I've grown six inches in eight months. And I've always got an eidetic memory but these past months have been ridiculous! It feels like my mind has gone so sharp."

An incredulous look stole across Heathers face and Draco interrupted before she could say anything that would inspire another rant from Hermione. "She's not bragging," Draco said. "I sent her one of my alchemical problems and she solved it in a day. The Granger I know would have needed a week and a library; she did it in a day and in a godforsaken tavern, without resources!"

The panic subsided and wonder replaced it. Heather wasn't worried. She felt like they had simply reached a level of perfection they ought to have reached back in their own world but certain factors failed to trigger a catalyst. And anyway, theories aside, Hermione getting smarter wasn't a problem for her.

"And Draco," she said. "What about you?"

He shifted uneasily. "I can see souls."

"What?!"

"The purities of their hearts, I mean," he elaborated. "I wrote that I was blindfolding my eyes to keep it hidden, but losing my eyes seemed to make my other senses sharper. I can see their intentions, lies and even thoughts, if I concentrate hard enough."

"Bugger!" both girls exclaimed.

And then he added, "I've grown taller too."

It was ridiculous to get caught up on that fact that both of them had gotten taller and she hadn't but that was what stood out the most to Heather. The Injustice!

"That's so unfair!" she whined. "It doesn't help that I'm bloody short to begin with!"

Both of them laughed at how ridiculous things were.

"What about you, Potter?" Draco asked when the mirth subsided.

The question surprised her. "Me? Nothing. I haven't really had much time for introspection. I've been travelling with men for months! When we cross a stream, it's for the horses. Merlin, now that I think about it, I would like a bath very much."

They laughed again. And from there, it was a simple agreement to go to the Sanctuary.

* * *

"Merlin, Luna!" Hermione exclaimed when they saw the house again for the first time in nearly nine months. It seemed to have expanded from a small cottage into a decent sized two-story house.

"She must have been very bored," Draco remarked.

Heather said nothing, feeling guilt at leaving Luna alone.

A small crack sounded before they could touch the house and it turned out to be Kreacher and Luna…whose eyes had simply widened with relief and happiness. There was no anger at being left behind, or resentment.

"I will prepare a meal and the rooms immediately," Kreacher said, his deeper voice startling the newcomers.

"You're home!" Luna exclaimed. "And with darker and happier eyes," she then latched on to Heather, who felt the first human contact in a couple of months. "Heather, your reflexes have gotten sharper."

Heather gave a nervous laugh. "Really? What makes you say that?"

"Well, your sword was halfway out of its sheath when Kreacher apparated me home." Luna patted her shoulder. "It's alright. I'm especially happy that you received that change, the added speed of your reflexes. It is needed in what you wish to do."

Heather barely had time to smile weakly at Luna before the words registered in Hermione's ears and she started interrogating Luna.

"What do you mean, '_received_'?" she asked.

Luna had another one of her patented looks, this time it was the "_you seriously don't know_?" Coupled with her protuberant eyes, it was slightly patronizing. "Rita Skeeter was an animagus. Change is in her blood when she finished the animagus transformation, so of course change is one of the things we will receive."

Hermione's new mind was way too fast. She started firing questions that had Draco and Heather scrambling to catch up. Soon, only Draco was attentively following since Heather had long since discarded her gear and her sword, falling into a light doze by the new fireplace.

"We have Voldemort's corpse integrated into our system?!" Hermione shrieked. It was the question that woke Heather and she instinctively tensed, one of her daggers dropping into her palm with familiarity. Heather nearly threw the knife until she realized she was in the Sanctuary and throwing knives at Hermione wasn't good for their friendship.

"Buggering fuck, woman," Heather growled out irritably. "I'm taking a bath and I hope I drown in it. You just don't scream Voldemort's name around, you know?"

Hermione looked extremely embarrassed and Draco, despite wincing, seemed very entertained. Heather was always bad tempered when it came to Voldemort. It was especially worse if she lacked sleep.

"Feather, don't forget to thank Kreacher! And open your window to let Hafny inside. She's going to be arriving soon," Luna called out as Heather grumpily stomped to the nearest bedroom.

* * *

She slept off her exhaustion from travel for three hours. When she woke, Draco was perched on a chair beside her bed reading a book. When he noticed her return to consciousness, he closed it with a _snap_!

"Sup?" she asked groggily.

The blonde pointed to the array of daggers on the table, along with her sword and a very fancy looking knife. "I didn't see this on you earlier. Undetectable Extension charms?"

She snorted. "Hell no. I was taught where to hide that on my person so that no one notices." She yawned and stretched. "What did I miss?"

Draco gave her a momentary look of marvel at the degradation of her language before blinking and going back on what he gleaned from last nights discussion. "Apparently, Lovegood says that most of our changes come from Rita Skeeter being an animagus. Voldemort is the counter-balance to your really 'pure' blood. The bones were the stabilizing factor. Technically, if we hadn't taken an animagus, none of this would have happened."

She nodded in agreement. "Alright. So what about the changes? Is there any logic to it?"

Draco looked uncomfortable as Heather practically undressed herself in front of him. She, who had spent her recent time with men and had very little privacy, ignored him.

"She says that it merely enhanced what we already have," he said. Draco was keeping his eyes firmly on the window.

"You can turn around now, Draco." There was amusement in her voice. "I theorized that already. What did Luna receive?"

"She can hear all the voices of living things. No need for physical changes, she was saying earlier, but you should have seen her hair when sunlight touched it. It looked like molten gold."

* * *

They exchanged news over a late dinner, with Heather keeping quiet, simply basking in the feeling of peace and happiness of seeing her friends alive.

"I've been viewing maps," Hermione told them. "And a lot of land is unclaimed. Most of the claimed lands are rather large countries but they leave out tons of empty grasslands alone too. The north, especially, is rather – "

"No, Hermione," Heather interrupted. "The north belongs to the Dúnedain. No map ever says it but their island kingdom sunk to the sea. They all fled to the north. No one likes to confirm that, since they are a race of kings that are technically without a country."

Her eyes went wide. "You've been staying with the Dúnedain! The people call them the Rangers of the North."

Heather nodded, "Yeah. I'll tell you about it later. So, where do you plan to create your orphanage?"

Hermione blushed and reverted to a stuttering mess. "W-well, y-you see…feather, I think…Well, I'm changing my plans a little bit. There are dozens of towns that are neglected and then, when I was in a barge, we came across pirates. I can't explain it well, but there was a taint of malice around them that made them cruel to everything. I wanted to help them, but then, how many people are like that?"

Draco summed it up neatly. "So you want to give them proper warding?"

"But how do you plan to do that?" Luna asked. "The malice you felt will keep battering at your wards, eventually weakening it. You'll have to redo it every year or so."

Hermione nodded with determination. "It'll be a lifelong goal. Besides, the taint seems to originate from one place. If you guys agree, I'll set up Blood wards to block most of the miasma and keep it in one place."

There was a round of agreement. And then, it was Draco's turn.

"People call me 'Hodur'." Draco said.

"The blind god of the norse pantheon?" Hermione asked. "Won't he be offended?"

Heather chuckled. "Mione, the norse aren't here. These people have a different set of gods. Go on, Draco."

"I go around the village, feeling for illness. When that's done, I commission the village children to gather my herbs for me. Some days I experiment, other days I brew. Most of the time, I end up discouraging people from apprenticing with me."

"Why ever not?" Luna asked.

Draco had an extremely distressed look on his face. "I'm a potions master Lovegood! I don't heal people. I make the brews to heal people! For Merlin's sake! They stitch people here!"

"Well, of course they will!" Hermione exclaimed. "They don't have healing magic here. Most things will just have to heal naturally."

Draco shuddered and Heather finally let out her laughter. "Don't be such a pansy, Draco! I have tried some stitches myself. Look!" she showed them a long line running up her bicep.

"Feather!" Hermione exclaimed. "Where in the world did you get that?"

She shrugged. "Faced a rabid bear. Now that I think about it, Mione, that miasma is probably the reason why there are dark creatures in the north."

Luna ignored the bit about the miasma and ran a finger through the line of the scar. "Did it hurt very much?" she asked with clinical curiosity.

"Nope. As sore as anything, but it wasn't painful."

Hermione cut in. "If it suits you, can we do the Blood wards this week? The more I hear about it, the more troubled I get."

They all agreed and Draco added, "But I have to return to the village now. They think I am foraging for obscure herbs, so it isn't uncommon for me to vanish. But a week will make them worry."

Luna and Kreacher sent Draco off while Hermione and Heather exchanged knowing looks where he couldn't see it.

"The responsibility is good for him," Hermione said.

"He looks better now too," Heather agreed. "I like Hodur better than Draco."

* * *

**Author notes:**

**Guys, I am having my midterms. I'll keep writing but it will be difficult. **

**Meanwhile, I will post the next chapter if I receive atleast another 5 reviews. I am greedy, I know.**

**~Lady Hallen**


	4. Destiny

**Story notes:**

**As mentioned earlier, I accept pairing suggestions but the final decision is still mine. I'm writing this after all.**

**And also, for the people that got a bit disappointed that Heather only got speed, then this chapter will reassure you. She's just a bit slow on certain things and not that given to introspection.**

**Lastly, Kreacher is still Kreacher. He just got healthier and happier.**

* * *

"_The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be."_

_-Ralph Waldo Emerson-_

* * *

The installation of the Blood wards left the four of them very tired and extremely lazy for three days. Draco only had time to rest for one day before he went back to his village. He grumbled and complained all the way about the soreness of his body but they all knew he was just complaining for the sake of it.

Hermione left five days later, bringing Luna with her. Heather didn't mind the probability of being alone for months. After her training with the rangers, she relished the feeling of safety and privacy.

She ran and trained every morning with Hafny, trying to push her new speed to its limits. Her goal was to outrun the extremely fast-flying eagle owl. So far, in their races, she had only won once.

In the evenings she tried her hand at sewing. The keyword there is tried.

The lack of "common clothes", as Hermione called it, had initially worried her. She had brought bolts of cloth at every village they had stopped in until she realized that she would have to learn tailoring – by herself. Here, Kreacher was an unexpected help…and hindrance.

"Miss Heather," Kreacher said sternly in his new deep voice. "What are you doing?"

Heather looked at him with a guilty face. There seemed to be an explosion of colors and cloth all around her. "Ah, Kreacher. This is an experiment."

Kreacher looked upset. It was particularly painful to watch with his new and expressive face. "Miss Heather is making clothes!" he cried. "Miss Heather doesn't have clothes? Why didn't Miss Heather ask Kreacher?" he was so upset that his newfound grammar had deserted him.

Heather was then forced to leave the tailoring to the house-elf. And since Kreacher nearly had no sense of fashion, he left the art of it to her. So she drew and showed it to him and they collaborated. That had both of them happy and occupied for months.

Lack of things to do did not bother her until the fifth month. That was when she and Kreacher nearly had another argument when Heather tried to cook. They spent that day hammering out a '_treaty_' of sorts. Heather was allowed to cook if she made a really big mess and allowed Kreacher to clean. The practicality of that appealed to Heather, who hated to wash dishes.

Conversations were scarce and when it happened, it was memorable. One such example:

"Kreacher, don't you wish to change your name? Or do other things than serve?"

The house-elf puffed up proudly. "My name was given to me by Master Regulus. And Kreacher is happy to serve. It is the vocation of house-elves to serve wizards. Kreacher bound himself to serve the Blacks. As long as a Black lives, Kreacher will serve."

Heather nodded. "But if we die, what will happen to you?"

The thought had evidently not occurred to him. When his bat-like ears quivered and drooped, Heather felt like the worst bitch.

"Kreacher doesn't know," he said in a small voice. Then a determined glint entered his eyes. "But that doesn't mean you will all die out. Miss Heather is a good witch and will have babies with Master Draco, right?"

It nearly made Heather asphyxiate with laughter.

* * *

Heather did her usual morning run with Hafny taunting her about being a slowpoke. And then a panicked Kreacher apparated right in front of her and took her back to the Sanctuary with a _**crack**_!

"Kreacher, what?" she started and then cut herself off when she saw a sobbing pile of molten gold by the fireplace. Worry filled her, nearly the same time that a murderous rage did. Someone had made Luna cry. They culprit didn't deserve death, they were asking for an eternity of exquisite torture.

"Luna, sweetheart?" Heather said softly. There was no reaction except for an increase in the volume of the weeping so she tried another tactic. "Moonbeam, who made you cry?" no response. It seemed that she was going to spend the night with Luna so she turned to the house-elf that was anxiously hovering beside her. "Kreacher, a blanket and a cup of water please."

It took time but Luna's weeping eventually subsided. When she finally managed a sentence without breaking down to tears, Heather felt like cheering.

"Feather, I want to sleep," she mumbled softly.

"Moonbeam, a little soup and then you can sleep."

The worry stayed with Heather until the next day, when Luna woke mid-afternoon the next day looking very pale.

"I'm sorry for making you worry," Luna said softly. "It's just that…sometimes this gift is a curse."

Epiphany came over Heather. "You saw something yesterday. A life being lost."

Luna nodded. "I was in shock, I think. That was the first time I heard a soul scream as it was ripped from its body."

"Oh, moonbeam," Heather sighed.

By the third day, when Heather was seriously contemplating to send for Draco (because he had the exceptional ability to shock Luna into listening and obeying him), Luna came down the stairs with a packed bag and a determined expression. She felt immense relief pour through her, but that vanished with Luna's next words.

"I'm going to learn healing," Luna said softly. "But that means you can't stay in the Sanctuary."

Heather was flabbergasted. "Luna? What do you mean?"

"If I'm going to lean healing," Luna enunciated slowly, like she was talking to a dumb person. "That is going to take years. You can't stay here for years!"

Oh.

"Kreacher can take care of the house," Luna interrupted before she could even protest. "And he'll do an excellent job of it."

Irritation. Despite the fact that Luna was a good friend, Heather sometimes forgot that she was a pureblood too. And with being a pureblood came the disregard of house-elves.

She breathed slowly to stop harsh words from coming out of her mouth.

"Luna, you weren't there when I first entered Grimmauld place. Kreacher had been alone for nearly sixteen hears and was slowly going mad." There was a sound of a distressed house-elf somewhere but Heather plowed on. "I am not leaving him alone to deteriorate to the same condition."

Kreacher couldn't hold it in and burst out, "Miss Heather! Kreacher will be fine! Kreacher can't stop Miss Heather's happiness."

Bleeding stubborn house-elves.

"Kreacher, I like you very much despite being a grouchy elf," she stated bluntly. That shocked him so much that he fell silent.

Luna looked sad. "I'm sorry, feather," and moved to unpack.

Heathers temper flared. Really, attempting to stop cursing was a lost cause.

"Bloody hell, Luna," Heather scowled. "Sit down. Kreacher isn't going to stay here and you are going to learn healing. Kreacher is going to help Draco with his potions."

There was a startled squeak somewhere by her feet and she would have found it funny if she wasn't so annoyed by Luna's dramatics.

"Kreacher, you can come here to clean once a week and then you're going to set up a proximity ward so that all of us - yes Kreacher even you, can tell if someone comes here. Is that agreeable?"

Kreacher raised a hand looking tentative. "Miss Heather, cleaning once a week will allow dust to and mildew to settle. Thrice a week."

Heather was reminded of the time of the _**Treaty**_. "No Kreacher. Don't overwork yourself. Twice a week."

They quickly shook hands on it. Luna was watching with bemused eyes.

* * *

Heather never realized how much she missed hunting down dark wolves and trolls until she was doing it again. She was also more proficient in taking down the larger opponents, which saved her from drinking the foul potions that Draco sent her the moment he heard she was back in active duty. In the note that accompanied it, he called it the _Potter Care Kit_.

Hafny was her constant companion and sometimes partner. He often blinded opponents to buy her time, especially when she was fighting large groups by herself. He got so good at it that the next town she stopped in, she custom made some sharp blades to attach to her talons and a sort of armor for the rest of the owls soft body.

Heather did not really pick a direction and instead just focused in the ground to see tracks of dark creatures. Most of them were by the north so she also bumped into some Dúnedain. The first time it happened, the men were so surprised to see a girl fighting that they nearly got skewered, so Heather learned to keep her cowl up until they sat and shared a fire. Mealtimes were, after all, safer for gaping than skirmishes.

Word slowly got around their ranks and they eventually greeted her by the name, "Gryffon" cordially. Well, as cordially as reticent men could.

She eventually met Aragorn again but had forgotten the first time they met. He was in the same state until he saw the bejeweled hilt of the sword of Gryffindor.

"Ah!" he exclaimed softly. "You were that stranger that shared a fire with my men."

Confusion beset Heather until she looked more closely at the dirt stained man that had more lines on his face and a grimmer set to his shoulders than the captain she had see many months ago. "Oh!" she remarked. "I had forgotten."

"I as well," he said. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

A bemused look crossed her face. "Gryffon, last of the bloodline of Gryffindor."

They shared a fire, a meal and silence. It was companionship and felt truly wonderful. That lasted until she removed her cowl to wash her hair and face.

"You are a girl," he said in a dumbfounded voice. "I thought your voice was a little high."

Not to be wondered at since, for a girl, her voice was slightly deeper and huskier. Hermione, in a drunken moment, called it a Sexual voice.

Heather flashed him a grin and did her ablutions. When she returned, the interrogation started. Well, maybe that was a bit mean. Aragorn was too polite to actually interrogate. He merely looked so damnably curious until Heather relented.

"The Gryffindor's were a secret bloodline," she said. "Our vows were honor, chivalry and courage. In every war, we participated. That severely decimated our family. A couple of years ago, I became the last in our line."

That wasn't a lie. Neither was it the complete truth.

"Who taught you the sword?" was the last question.

"Your men did, actually." Oh, the look on his face was priceless.

It was by mutual agreement that both of them decided to travel together. Aragorn's duties were to guard the borders of a certain town. Heather's goals were to kill as many dark creatures as possible. It was beneficial, either way.

Hafny had drawn a curious look when she showed up carrying a letter from Hermione but respect came to his face when the owl took down a lone wolf by herself.

"Did you train her?" Aragorn asked. There was envy in his voice. Heather was hard pressed to keep a straight face.

"She came to me one day, asking to follow me. So I said yes. If you want your own companion, you'll have to ask Hafny."

He didn't think she was serious. And he especially looked at her funny when she talked to Hafny the following night. Aragorn then thanked her profusely when a black eagle-owl came swooping down to say hello a week later. Aragorn called him, _Maethor_, which was elvish for warrior.

* * *

The problem with travelling with another person came up when Heather found she couldn't use magic in more obvious ways. Cushioning charms were discreet enough when aimed at the hard ground for sleeping but the Impedimenta Jinx, which she used liberally, was to be avoided since he could notice the trolls slowing down.

Her speed, which she had forgotten, came into play and she moved faster than any human to avoid a crushing blow. Three poisoned daggers later and the troll was at her feet.

Then she looked tentatively at Aragorn, who was white as a sheet.

"Aragorn?" she asked.

That unfroze him.

"By the Valar!" he exclaimed. "I thought that blow would kill you." Then he moved to hug her.

It was then that Heather discovered the change that had come to her gradually. The epiphanies she had when talking to people, especially Luna, and all the knowledge she had about where the dark creatures were…they were all to prepare her about the larger change and that was precognition.

She saw Aragorn talking to a very beautiful woman (elf, her mind supplied when she saw the pointed ears.) in the middle of a garden. There was a broken sword and a crown.

She broke the hug and staggered back, looking at him with wide eyes. "Yo-you're the subject of a prophecy," she gasped.

If possible, he went even whiter but he was still conscious enough to settle them away from the carcass of a troll.

"Gryffon, explain," he stated – no – demanded, in a rough voice.

"It's a family gift," she stuttered. "My father could talk his way out of anything." Well, that was James Potter in a nutshell. Not exactly a lie. "My mother, no one could hate her." And all people she talked to loved Lily Potter, even Snape. Aunt Petunia didn't count. Not a lie either. "My sister can hear the voices of living things. And my brother can see their souls." Not a lie in the strictest sense since Draco and her were cousins and Luna, being a pureblood meant they were related in some obscure way.

If he wanted to know about Hermione, he'd just have to meet her to understand. Hermione was…Hermione.

"And you?"

She gulped. "I – I just saw the future when you touched me. You are a very important person, apparently so I couldn't stop myself." Heather hunched forward defensively, aware of what a violation of privacy that was. And Aragorn was the definition of a very private person. "I'm sorry," she whispered to the ground.

His rough, calloused hands were gentle as he lifted her head to look at him. "Oh, child. You don't have to apologize. Was that the first time you used that gift?"

As she nodded, Heather felt herself tearing up. She couldn't help it. Aragorn reminded her of Remus Lupin.

He patted her cautiously and produced a handkerchief.

That made her give a teary laugh.

"What?"

She sniffled. "We're in the middle of the wilderness and as grimy as anything…and you have a clean handkerchief on you?"

The situation made the stoic man crack a smile. Heather giggled even as she made a mental note to write to the others about all the misdirection's she told in the past few minutes.

* * *

Heather did not intend to stay too long with Aragorn but after he found out about her gift, the trust issues went lesser and made her relax minutely around him. Not enough to tell him about being from another world, or about her magic, but enough to trust him with her life in a fight. He probably felt the same way since he started getting more talkative. He graduated from monosyllabic answers to giving out phrases.

He told Heather about growing up with elves (and wasn't that a surprise!) and explained what the broken sword and crown meant.

"Then why don't you claim the crown?" she asked.

People had asked him that before but not with just plain curiosity and without the envy and censure. Aragorn was obliged to answer. "I do not wish to follow the path of my ancestor and lead the kingdom to ruin. His blood runs in my veins. I'll probably make the same mistake."

A funny spasm went though Heather. That was exactly the line of thought she had entertained most of her school life, especially after she found out she was a Horcrux.

"I won't force you to make your choices," she said with a wry twist to her mouth. "I'm not in the position to, anyway. But I'll tell you something my grandfather told me when I started to doubt myself." She looked at Aragorn firmly in the eye and said softly. "It is not by our blood, or abilities that show us what we truly are. It is our choices."

Casting the manipulative old bastard as her grandfather made shudders race up her spine but was totally worth the discomfort when it made the pinched look go away from Aragorns features.

* * *

**Author notes:**

**If you wish this to be longer, as I was told to do so repeatedly, then I will update longer. See, there's a cause and effect going on here.**

**Midterms just ended and life returns to normal. Any more questions will be answered in the next Story notes. And, if you people ask, you bleeding ought to read it too.**

**~Lady Hallen**


	5. Hypocrites

**Story notes:**

**Kreacher has some mention in this chapter, to those Kreacher lovers who seem to mention him every review. (Lol.)**

* * *

"_Hypocrites get offended by the truth."_

_-Jess C. Scott, Bad Romance: Seven Deadly Sins Anthology-_

* * *

Heather broke out into a loud laugh at the sight that met her.

The Sanctuary now had curtains…and an extra floor. It had also gotten wider. Apparently, the orders she had given to Kreacher weren't enough to keep him busy, or maybe Draco decided to keep the third floor for himself. If so, then he would be in for an argument.

She composed herself and entered the Sanctuary, only to lose it again when she saw the scene.

Kreacher was running after Hermione, saying something about toadstools. Luna was engaging in a loud shouting match with Draco about the placement of something. And everything else was scattered about in a way that spoke of inhabitants. She even saw a pot in the kitchen boil over and it made Kreacher give a squeak of alarm.

"Merlin, this place is a mess," she exclaimed. Despite using Westron for most of the time, English still felt natural on her tongue.

At her words, all inhabitants of the house noticed her and burst into loud exclamations.

"Potter! Tell Lovegood that she can't keep the bloody menace as a pet!" Draco said.

"Feather!" both girls said at the same time Kreacher nearly wailed, "Miss Heather! Tell Miss Hermione that pink toadstools are poisonous and will not be added to the pot!"

Heather just grinned at them. "I'm home," and continued since Kreacher looked ready to burst into tears, "Pink toadstools are not edible unless you hammer them to bits." She eyed the pot. "We likely don't have time for it. Bu Hafny caught a rabbit on our way here."

That left the problem of Luna's new pet but that could be solved later. She was too happy to solve other problems anyway. It had been nearly two years since she last saw all of them.

Draco looked the same, long blonde hair pulled back by a black ribbon, gleaming silver eyes serious. Luna had a healthier flush to her cheeks and her golden hair was longer. Hermione though, was dangerously thin. That was one of the hazards of constant travelling. She probably was in the same state.

"Come here, you nutter," Draco said.

The four of them embraced in a tangled mess of limbs and bodies. Heather was grateful she had dropped her sword and the rest of the other pointed weapons by the door otherwise it would have poked someone by the force of the hugs she was receiving.

"You crazy lot," Hermione said with affection.

"Crazy indeed," Heather agreed. "You're the only people I know who would hug me when I'm this dirty."

Draco promptly released her. That had the girls laughing.

It was as though they didn't change. Heather could almost relax. But something had changed. The four of them were quieter. Isolation from the only people they could talk to without reservation had changed them into less talkative people. It was most obvious on Hermione and Luna. Draco and Heather were quiet people by nature and isolation had made them almost mute.

For other people, dinner would have been an awkward affair. Nobody talked, not out of embarrassment but out of habit. Midway through it, Luna started to hum a song and Draco must have recognized it because he cracked a smile.

As the plates were cleared away, they nursed cups of cider and exchanged news that couldn't be written on letters.

"I've found a cure for deafness," Draco announced. "As well as blindness."

The girls perked up at the good news. "Really? Hermione said. She smiled and it stretched the thin skin on her face. It nearly made Heather wince.

Draco nodded. "I met the prince of Rohan. His father was suffering from it, apparently. They offered to let me live in their main house."

"Did you accept?" Heather asked.

He snorted. "No. Lovegood sent me a letter. Something about making a school for learning healing."

Even if it wasn't said as a question, he managed to make it sound like one. They all turned to look at Luna, who beamed at him.

"I've travelled around the continent to learn healing from different kinds of people," she said. "There is only one person left to apprentice myself to, and then I would be done. That said, a resident potions master would be great."

Despite himself, Draco looked intrigued. "Alright," he nodded. "I'll go pack my stuff. The villagers will be told that my sister needs my help."

And this time, he drew the attention to Heather. "By the way," Draco continued. "What possessed you to make Lovegood and me twins? For that matter, you and I don't even look remotely alike, let alone related."

Even if he was scowling, there was a pleased undertone to his voice. Heather simply laughed at him. "By Morgana's tits, Draco! If you wanted to be a brother to Hermioe, you simply had to say so!"

This set off a round of spluttering and laughter. When it died down, Heather turned to Hermione. "And you're all purebloods and related to me somehow. Hermione is a muggleborn. I'm claiming her as my favorite distant cousin."

That made Hermione smile at Heather in gratitude since she had been a bit hurt to be excluded.

But as always, Draco had the last say in the matter. "But the old goat, Potter? You set me up as related to him. Merlin, it's like besmirching my grandfathers' grave. Poor Abraxas must be rolling in his coffin."

* * *

Heather waited until Draco and Luna were asleep before confronting Hermione.

"This has to stop, Mione!" Heather hissed quietly. "If this goes on, you'll drop from exhaustion."

Hermione looked startled at being confronted, and then angry. "You're one to talk. You're getting thinner too."

"But I can regain my weight from two days meals and I get exhausted from the travel and the fighting. You're being beaten down by the travel and overuse of magic!" she said. It was a trial to reign in her temper. "Every village I stopped in, I rested for a day or so. What about you? When was the last time you rested in between warding? You're suffering from magical exhaustion!"

Hermione sagged. "Feather, you don't understand. Every ward I put up only lasts three months or so."

"Then find a permanent solution!" she said. The temptation to yell had never been stronger. "Your new brain ought to help with that. Merlin, we took the Black library with us. The solution should be there somewhere."

Hermione eventually admitted to being ridiculous despite being so smart. When she headed to bed, Heather settled in front of the fire with a sigh. She quelled the urge to cry at how thin Hermione had gotten. If Luna hadn't…

There was a pop! and Kreacher appeared by her elbow. "Miss Heather should sleep," then he noticed the shine of tears in her green eyes. "Miss Heather is sad?"

Heather hugged the house-elf, who had gotten taller again. He was currently the height of an eight year old human child.

"Oh, Kreacher," she sighed. "I forgot why we stayed with each other when we were younger. It was to watch out for each other, because no one else would tell us we were being stupid but each other." And Hermione nearly killed herself if Luna hadn't called for a reunion.

"Kreacher will do it!" Kreacher said eagerly. "Kreacher can fetch any of the others if missy's are being stupid." It went unsaid that Draco would not abuse his body. He was rather conscious of his health.

Heather felt her heart swell at the earnest words from the house-elf. "Oh Kreacher. But you'll tire yourself out!" she cried.

For the first time, Kreacher sent Heather an irritated look. "Kreacher tried to tell Miss Heather, but missy would not listen. Kreacher doesn't get tired anymore. Kreacher only gets tired if missy and the others are beings naughty and is not resting."

Merlin's buggering beard. That meant the bond between master and house-elf had also mutated when they passed through the veil. Another change on top of everything else. She only hoped Kreacher didn't feel her own deteriorating health.

Instead of showing how worried that made her, Heather just flashed Kreacher an impish grin. "Thanks Kreacher. You're the best."

Heather waited until she was alone in her room, with silencing wards in all of her walls before she released the tight hold she had on her precognition ability.

For the first week after she awakened the gift, she flinched every time she touched something. She had taken to wearing dragon-hide gloves as a consequence. Eventually she learned to rein it in but the gift struck back at night with a vengeance. She had taken to drinking a mouthful of dreamless sleep every night so she could at least get an hours' sleep at night without being plagued by indecipherable dreams and screams of terror. The darkness that Hermione was working to contain had also affected her dreams.

To add to that, she had not told her pseudo-siblings of the late development of her gift. Besides, none of them had complained about hearing living things, or seeing souls of people (Heather conveniently forgot Luna's mental breakdown several months ago). And Hermione probably slept through the night without being plagued by formulae…not bloody likely.

She knew she was being stupid about it and the others probably wouldn't hesitate to help if she asked but she wanted to try solving it on her own first.

Distantly, she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Draco say, "Bleeding stuffed up Gryffindor pride."

She ruthlessly quashed it as she gulped the dreamless sleep potion.

* * *

"I met the steward of Gondor," Hermione said with pink cheeks. She had regained the weight she had lost under Kreachers watchful eyes.

Draco looked from perusing an Ancient Runes text. "Yeah?" he said. "They're pretty good friends with Prince Theoden."

Luna nodded. "They would be. Rohan and Gondor are good friends. Fenny likes Rohan very much."

Fenny was the name of the fox that Luna had nursed back to health. Draco tended to avoid it, muttering dire predictions about people dying via fox. Heather didn't even try to dissuade Luna about keeping Fenny. Luna had simply turned those big, silvery-grey eyes at her and Heather caved. Hermione was being a coward about it and simply would not take a side, saying, "Switzerland! Switzerland!" every time Draco whined.

Heather ignored the bit about Fenny. "Did you know that there are elves in this world?" she said instead. "Like, the tall and cute ones."

The rest didn't drop or have any kind of extreme reaction but there was a certain stillness about her three friends that denoted complete and total attention.

"They have er, had a Dark Lord too," Heather plowed on blithely. "It's pretty much very interesting."

"Hold up," Hermione said. "Let's do this one at a time. Elves? Elves that are not house-elves?"

Heather nodded. "Yep. Tall, graceful, wise and near-immortal elves. The whole package."

Draco whistled (and Heather marveled because when did Draco do anything as plebian as whistling?). "Merlin," he said. "And I thought the people in Rohan were joking when they said, "as talented as an elf."

All of them looked at Kreacher, who suddenly looked nervous at the sudden attention. Luna patted the top of Kreachers head and said, "Well, Kreacher is clearly a house-elf. But nobody knows that. Maybe we can just call him 'house'?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Draco snorting and gasping with laughter. Hermione soon followed and Heather held out only by not looking at everyone else. Luna merely looked confused and that made it funnier.

"But seriously though," Hermione cut in, still hiccupping with mirth. "What about Kreacher?"

"Why don't we just wing it?" Luna answered. Her dreamy voice had Draco in another fit of laughter. Heather and Hermione ignored him but it could be noted that Hermione would cough every so often and Heathers ribs were near cracking at holding back her own howls.

"What do you mean, Luna?" Heather eventually said when Luna continued to look at them with a puzzled face.

"When you don't plan things, feather, everything goes well," Luna answered. She was kind enough not to add, "But when you do, it all goes to hell."

Kreacher served them spring water and cider. All of them composed themselves until Hermione suddenly touched the darker and grimmer part of Heather's news.

"A Dark Lord, feather?" Hermione said.

It was a very politely said demand. Heather obliged and told them all about the war of the Dark Lord – as Aragorn had told it. She remembered to omit Aragorn's role as Isildur's heir though. She was sometimes haunted by how pale Aragorn had turned when she had blurted out, "You're part of a prophecy." No matter how kindly he had reassured her, it was still a violation of privacy.

At the end of it, all of them were pale.

"Merlin's baggy y-fronts," someone muttered.

Heather met Hermione's eyes and said quietly. "It's a Horcrux, Mione. That ring is a Horcrux. Their Dark Lord only made one, so it will probably be stronger than the locket ever was."

They went to bed that night in subdued and somber spirits. It went unsaid that Heather would help destroy this Dark Lord too. And it was also unspoken agreement between the others that they would not leave her to it.

* * *

**I found that other chapter a bit heavy on drama, so I made this as lighthearted as possible. The other chapter will be as full and as heavy as anything. Might mention Elrond.**

**Remember, this is still the boring aspects of their story. Things will get interesting if we add in the other members of the Fellowship soon. And I don't think Boromir is born yet in this part.**

**To all the people who reviewed, I really do thank you for your kind words.**

**~Hallen**

**P.S. It's the Labor Day in the Philippines tomorrow, which means I can write a much longer chapter. YAY!  
**


	6. Elves, Dwarves and Common sense

**Story notes:**

**The last chapter, Heather was slightly hysterical because she was low on sleep. This one is slightly low on descriptions and impressions on first meetings because Heather is close to dropping.**

**Like I said, I accept pairing suggestions but this is too soon to tell. Draco pairings will be more welcomed since I have none planned for him.**

* * *

"_Because there was only one thing worse than dying. And that was knowing you were going to die. And where. And how."_

_-Richard Matheson, Collected Stories, Vol. 1-_

* * *

Exhaustion and lack of sleep was held back by sheer will. She was also suffering from potions addiction. Kreacher did not notice because the other three people he was anchored to were healthy. Heather hid it with the same expertise she hid the blood quill and "I must not tell lies."

But Heather chafed and jumped at the chance when Luna asked to be accompanied to the best Healer in all of Arda (That was actually the name of the continent, who knew?).

It was easier to hide things, but near impossible to keep it really secret when you're travelling with Luna. Glamour's only partially solved things so she scouted and did everything else, treating Luna like a princess. When they eventually met a perimeter guard of Rivendell, Heather left everything to Luna. She had been shoring up her flagging strength by drinking pepper-up every hour.

"What!" she gasped when she saw their ears. They were elves. Merlin, she really was tired if she didn't notice that immediately. Even after all of Aragorn's stories, she didn't realize they were headed towards _the Rivendell_.

The guard agreed to escort them towards Rivendell and Heather fell back to one of the younger looking elves. "Sir, is Lord Aragorn in Rivendell?" she asked.

The elf looked delighted. "Lord Estel does not stop often in Rivendell. But the Lords Elladan and Elrohir brought news that they left him recently near Weathertop," he answered.

A small bit of anticipation entered Heathers tired mind. "Lord Elrond's twin sons! I have heard stories about them from Lord Aragorn."

The perimeter guard, whose name was Lindel, and Heather chatted towards Rivendell. The first sight of it rendered her speechless.

"Godric's ghost," she muttered under her breath. Somewhere ahead, she heard Luna's exclamation of, "Oh my! How aesthetically designed." It made a bubble of amusement well up in her. What an understatement.

They were ushered inside the large, airy building and into Lord Elrond's study. It was a formal looking place. If he was looking to intimidate people, it was working.

"The messenger said you wished to make a request of me, Lady Eilys?" he asked in his deep and kind voice.

Heather did not listen to him but only watched his every move. He moved like a man who knew his place in the world and was comfortable with it. It made Heather so jealous.

She must have zoned out in-between watching and observing him, because the next thing Elrond was saying was, "There is a sentry outside my door to lead you to your room. I would like to have a moment with your companion."

Wasn't that alarming! And Luna, the traitor, agreed to it quickly.

"What?" Heather gasped.

Elrond pinned her to her seat with his stern eyes. It was nothing like Snape's glares, or Voldemorts glares but it was somewhere in that league too. All he lacked was a manic hatred for her and he would be set.

"I received a letter from my son, Estel," he said calmly. "You might know him as Aragorn, or Strider. He wrote to tell me that you have a gift that you are controlling with difficulty."

He could have phrased it better. The way he said it implied she was incompetent and made her automatically defensive.

"What exactly did Aragorn write?" she asked.

He must have realized what he'd unintentionally done because he actually humored her and quoted from an open letter on his desk. "It is a family gift, she says, but she is frightened of it. Her gift is powerful and if she comes your way, can you advise her on it?"

Bugger!

Heather hunched in on herself, feeling like the worst bitch in the world. A gentle hand touched her shoulder and it took all of her will not to flinch.

"Child, please. He did not tell me what your gift is. And your sister knows something is wrong with you, but she does not know what," he said softly.

Oh Merlin. In a burst, she confessed to him her gift, which was feeling like a curse at the moment. She wasn't aware she was weeping until his gentle, calloused hands caught her tears. The awareness of it brought her to a halt and he covered the awkwardness of it by pouring her a glass of water.

Eventually, she wound up with, "But none of my siblings ever asked for help when their time came. Am I so weak that this happens?"

Elrond must have faced a variation of that question when Aragorn was growing up. A wry grin flitted across his face before it returned to its somber mask. "No, child. Your gift is just so powerful that it needs practice."

Heather composed herself while Elrond studied her. She knew what he was seeing. Extremely colorful hair, red rimmed eyes that streaked dust trails down her cheeks. She was probably a mess.

Elrond saw a different image. He saw a child that was carrying a burden of a gift she did not know to use. By the way she moved, he saw a noble and regal spirit. He also knew that she had a difficult upbringing by the way she craved his touch.

"Your sister has asked to be taught healing," Elrond continued. "And it seems that I will have to teach you how to control your gift as well."

Oh, right. Aragorn did mention that Elrond had the gift of foresight too.

A sudden thought occurred to her and she wondered how long she had been closeted with Elrond. Maybe six hours? The longest she had ever gone without pepper up. And she knew she started shaking if it went for even longer. Her fingers had started to shake two hours ago.

A morbid grin came to Heather's face. "Eilys' first lesson may be a practical one," she said. "I am quite ill."

Elrond did not look alarmed and Heather gave him a point for keeping calm.

"I have felt that," he stated simply. "If you know what is wrong with yourself, the cure may come faster."

Heather tried to stop a laugh, even as the onslaught of the need came over her. The need to drink pepper-up. Merlin, she was really an addict. Draco was never going to trust her with potions again.

"I have not been sleeping for nearly three months," she said bluntly. "Hodur, Eilys' twin, brews potions. He made one that keeps you awake even if you lack sleep. And another one that keeps you from dreaming." She stifled a chuckle as the pull strengthened to a painful stab. "I have been drinking it for as long as I've had no sleep, so my body needs to be weaned from them. The process is quite painful."

Elrond was suddenly all business as he asked for a sample of the potion and its ingredients. Heather gave it to him since it was the few potions that they could make in Arda, with all of its ingredients being a local herb. When it passed the seventh hour, she doubled over coughing and nearly asphyxiated.

* * *

What followed was a haze of fever and coughing. In between that was a lot of vomiting. And someone also kept insisting about letting her drink water when all Heather wanted was to roll over and sleep.

Oh but wait, even in sleep, there was no proper rest.

She was plagued by dreams of moonlight on stone doors, arrows that were held by a blonde elf, dragon fire and a great eye surrounded by a ring of fire.

Heather hated that last bit since it kept returning. And every time she saw it, she broke out screaming.

Distantly, she was aware she was probably worrying a lot of people. She wanted to stop the dreams too but sleeping meant she had no control over it. So she continued to dream and be frightened. Bugger. And she so hated being frightened, right next to being caged.

Someone eventually touched her and took away the dreams. Only then did Heather feel rest for the first time in three months.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, an unfamiliar elf was by her bedside, singing a song softly under his breath.

"You have a beautiful voice," she croaked softly.

The elf looked at her so quickly that it was a surprise he did not get a whiplash, or a crick in the neck. He poured her a cup of water and supported her as she drank it down greedily.

"You've been quite ill," he remarked. "My name is Glorfindel."

She nodded. "Why is my throat bandaged? And my hands tied?" it would have alarmed her to have her hands tied to a bed but she recognized the knots and could have slipped free easily if she was lucid. Luna's doing, she thought.

"Lord Elrond and Lady Eilys said that you were suffering from your visions of the future. It must have been very horrible, because you clawed at your throat and tried to take out your eyes many times," he said. This was stated with a completely clinical curiosity and held not censure, or judgment.

At his words, Heather remembered the lidless eye that had haunted her dreams. She started to get restless and wanted to hold something pointy, preferably her sword but that was out of the question.

"Lord Glorfindel," she said softly since her throat still felt scratchy. "Can you take me outside?"

The elf looked like he wanted to protest but he must have seen the mulish tilt to her chin and he relented. He helped brush out her long hair and tied it with a simple ribbon. His touch was brisk and impersonal but wasn't enough to stop a sudden vision that came to her when his fingers touched her temple.

There was a horse, an evil man and an army that followed him. Heather saw him on board a white boat at sea.

She shuddered as he pulled away. "Lord Glorfindel, please don't touch my skin. That is mostly how my visions come."

"Your pardon, Lady Gryffon," he said. He sounded like he meant it.

He led her outside with her gloved hand on his arm to keep her from falling. She steered them to the practice court where several elves were practicing their sword and their archery. Her legs felt like it couldn't support a marshmallow so anything heavy so she settled for knives since she could still throw. She gravitated towards an elf polishing a set of them.

"May I borrow that?" she asked.

The elf looked to Lord Glorfindel for confirmation and pushed it towards her. She tested its weight in her palm and found it familiar enough that an experimental twirl did not make it fall, or make her wrist twinge with pain.

Spying a target board a couple of yards away, she hefted it and threw. It hit dead center. A surge of accomplishment went over her, even as determination to try another one came.

As she bent to pick up another one, Glorfindel took it away with a stubborn set to his shoulders.

"No, you've just woken up from your illness. Your sister will have my head if I allow you to continue."

The elf that had been listening and watching nearby blanched at that and looked to the target board with awe.

This time, it was Glorfindel that led her to the Dining hall, where Luna and Elrond were having a late lunch. Luna saw her first and stood up with a small, muted scream. The chair she had been sitting on fell backwards with a _bang!_

That made Heather worried and alarmed. "Just out of curiosity, how long have I been sick?"

A smile appeared on his youthful face. "Half a month, my lady."

Oh Merlin! This meant lectures, even possible howlers if Hermione got carried away by her anger and went for it.

* * *

It turned out that she was Luna's first hands-on patient. And the subject of a lot of visitors since she actually managed to let Draco and Hermione visit Rivendell while unconscious. One of her more surprising visitors was Aragorn. "Truly surprising," Elrond muttered. "Since that child does not like deviating from patrols and duty."

Luna had known she was a trying patient and must have collaborated with Elrond since her bedside was never empty. There was always an elf sitting on the chair, ready to entertain her with songs or stories of epic battles. Having seen her scars and her weapons, the epic battles were the ones told more often. The favorite visitor was Lord Glorfindel since he actually discussed battle tactics with her.

Eventually, the duty roster, as she jokingly called it to Luna's amusement, brought the twins of Rivendell. They looked a lot like their father, with only hints of their mother in the shape of their eyes and the sweep of their hair.

"You got swept in too?" she asked with amusement.

"What do you mean?" one of them asked.

"Eilys knows that if I get bores, I'd probably make my way to the practice court and train. So she probably has a schedule somewhere, a list of visitors to keep me from tearing my hair out," she explained.

They both laughed. "Sounds familiar," Elladan said. "Ada does the same thing for Estel when he gets sick."

"Aha! So it does exist!" she exclaimed, to their laughter.

When she finally got clearance to train, she tracked down her weapons, borrowed a loose shirt and bound her breasts. It was dawn when she started and the practice court was empty. That was better since being watched would make her falter.

She started with bare-handed fighting to better gauge how weak she had gotten during her convalescence. The results had her dismayed, but she pushed through regardless and was soaking by the time she was done. Clearly, a sword would be too much, even for her. So she settled for knife fighting. The end of it had all of her knives dead center in all of the targets.

Even with that, she had a long way to go before she would clear herself for active duty. See, she did have sense, no matter what anybody said!

* * *

Heather ended up staying in Rivendell longer than planned and as such, met the dwarves that Gandalf the Grey was leading on a quest.

"I thought you said there were no wizards?" Heather asked Luna in their home tongue.

"He is not a wizard," Luna said. Her large eyes were watching Gandalf like a hawk. "Their kinds are called Istari. They were sent by the gods of this world to fulfill a mission."

Well that was comforting. A large range of chosen ones.

Then she saw him, a hobbit. He was the size of the dwarves and looked less hardy. There was also a bewildered look in his eyes that meant he kept wondering what he was doing with them.

A familiar pull pressed her and she gritted her teeth against the instinct to push it back. The threads of Destiny were around Bilbo Baggins.

A clattering of hooves broke the spell and the patrol came back. Heather left Luna at nearly a run. Luna followed. Ever since her illness, Luna was loathe to leave her alone.

"Lord Elrond," she interrupted him. "It's there again."

Annoyance drained away from his face and sympathy crossed it. They had discussed her gift and agreed that she would always come to him for help if the need would press her.

"Who does it concern, Lady Gryffon?" he asked.

"The small one. A Halfling," she said.

He nodded. "Then you will dine with us tonight."

The dwarves were rude guests. Even without the gift of foresight, Heather knew the dinner would degenerate into something else rowdy so she took the hobbit away from the main group.

"You're not an elf!" he remarked.

"No, I am not," she said. "But I have to tell you something. You must never trust power when it is offered because power gained by evil means will lead to destruction. Power gained because of hard work will lead to prosperity."

The power of foresight left her for a moment and she swayed. A hand at her elbow steadied her and she found a worried Luna looking at her.

Behind the Halfling, a dwarf was there. He looked towards the both of them with guarded eyes and gestured for Bilbo to return to the dining table.

"You are so full of hatred and distrust," Luna said. Her eyes were sorrowful. "If you do not face that, you will be consumed by it and not live to rule over your vast gold."

"What do you mean?" the dwarf asked in a deep, rough voice.

"Lady Eilys always speaks the truth and Lady Gryffon has the gift of foresight even stronger than mine," Elrond cut in. "If you allow her to touch your skin, she can see your future."

The dwarf promptly took a step away from her.

The Halflings gentle and small voice said, "Can you see my future?" he asked.

Luna gave a sound of distress but Heather had to agree since it was asked in such an innocent manner. Luna relented only if Heather did it sitting down.

A touch and she was plunged into a series of pictures that involves dragons, goblins and golden rings.

When she broke the contact the Halfling was watching her expectantly. She managed a smile. "Yours will never be a dull life."

Heather did not tell anyone that Bilbo would be the catalyst for the eventual recovery of the Dark Lord. Some things happened even if you interfered.

When the passages cleared up from winter, Heather left Rivendell and Luna.

* * *

**Author notes:**

**In case you're wondering, that dwarf there was Thorin Oakenshield. **

**I really enjoyed the reviews this chapter garnered. Two people mentioned something twice, so I am adding it as an additional chapter.**

**I am also sorry for disappointing the elvish chapter. You lot have too much expectations of me. Its frankly unnerving.**

**~Hallen**


	7. Omake

OMAKE

**How a Heather was named Feather**

She tried to hunch lower in her seat when the door slid open with a bang!

A girl's bushy head popped through. "Have you seen a toad anywhere?"

Heather gave a miniscule shake of her head. "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

This was all said in a very small voice. The girl with the bushy hair entered the compartment and looked down at Heather. She hunched even lower in her seat. It was instinct.

"My name's Hermione, what's yours?" the girl asked in a friendly way.

A friend! It made Heather look up hesitantly. Maybe she would be nice. "H-heather," she stuttered.

Annoyance crossed Hermione's face. "Excuse me, your name is Feather? What parent would name their child that? Have they no pity? Well, I can't exactly talk, can I since my parents named me after a play."

Then she sat across Heather and went on talking. Heather couldn't exactly correct her when she couldn't get a word in.

* * *

**Meeting Luna Lovegood**

The girl was strange. That was okay. Heather was strange too. She bit back a sob at Ron Weasley's cruel taunt about her being as strange as anything.

"Hello," the girl with the kind eyes said. "My name is Luna Lovegood."

Even her name was pretty.

"Heather," she muttered softly. Because here was someone whose name was a celestial body and hers was a kind of grass.

"Oh, that's nice," Luna said. "Heather's are very inoffensive plants."

A happy warmth spread through her. This girl was a good friend. Hermione was okay, but she was sometimes cruel in her turn of phrase. She had a feeling this girl would not be cruel but merely honest.

"And Luna's are very nice friends," she said. And that was the beginning of a long and lasting friendship.

* * *

**What Elrond thought when he saw his visitors**

What a strange pair, he thought.

Eilys was composed and very blunt. Her accent in Westron was not something he had heard yet and he thought he had heard everything. Gryffon did not speak at all but instead watched him with alarming intensity.

Eventually, Eilys concluded her request with, "you have a very serious face. I think you should smile more often to rid yourself of your age."

He nearly choked. No one commented on that anymore, not even Erestor.

"I beg your pardon?" he said softly.

She nodded. "My siblings and I have lost people very dear to us, but Gryffon keeps us laughing because she says that if we stop, we will join them faster. You too have lost someone, but I don't think she would like it if you age faster."

It felt like a hand was clutching his heart. "She is not dead, Lady Eilys. She sailed to the Undying Lands after she lost her mind, tortured to insanity by orcs."

A shadow passed her face. That surprised him. It was as though she could really feel his grief. "No, I don't suppose you can laugh, but you must find something to live for."

He would have answered but he saw her companion, the Lady Gryffon, sway in her chair. Lady Eilys saw it as well and had an extremely alarmed look on her face.

Compassion swelled in him and he directed a look towards Lady Eilys that said he would take care of Gryffon before she collapsed. "There is a sentry outside my door to lead you to your room. I would like to have a moment with your companion."

* * *

**What Hermione did**

Hermione had known that Heather was hiding something but Heather was different from all of them when she was hiding something. She would bite it and hide it. The confrontation by a wrong person would make her more stubborn. Confrontation done in the wrong way would make her defensive. Dealing with Heather was always difficult.

When Luna brought Heather away with her, Hermione jumped at the chance and borrowed Hafny. It spoke volumes that Heather did not complain since she loved the bloody owl.

"Take this to Aragorn," she told Hafny, fastening a letter around her leg. Hafny gave her an irritated hoot and flew off. She then sagged with relief.

"She won't like it if she finds out, you know," Draco told her as they both watched Hafny become a speck in the sky.

"Then she won't find out," Hermione said flippantly. Then hesitation crossed her. They didn't like asking each other to use their gifts. It felt like cheating on homework. "Draco, how did her soul look like?"

Draco was startled, and then he clenched his fists. "It looked like a flickering candle. She's close to collapsing, Granger. If she wasn't Potter, we wouldn't have to do this." Then he directed a grin at her and it still surprises Hermione that Draco Malfoy would direct that look to her. "I heard her chew you out. Both of you are hypocrites, you know that?"

* * *

**What Hermione wrote to Aragorn**

_Dear Sir,_

_I know we aren't properly introduced, but I am Gryffon's cousin. She doesn't mention me much because we have not seen each other in recent years, but last week, I saw her with her siblings and she looked on the verge of collapsing._

_Gryffon is not saying anything, and it is worrying the twins. Eilys is headed towards Rivendell because she wishes to learn healing from the best healer in all of Arda. Hodur mentioned that you might manage to ask a favor of the Lord of Rivendell to intercede for us. Since he is a healer, he might know what to do with her stubbornness._

_Cordially,_

_**Enid**_

* * *

**What Aragorn wrote to Elrond**

_Ada,_

_I know this is new, but I will tell you all about it when my next patrol allows it._

_A friend is passing there soon. Her name is Gryffon. Her cousin wrote to me and expressed concerns towards her health. They do not know what is wrong. I do not think she told what remains of her family, so it is not my place to tell you either._

_What I can say is that she has received a family gift. She does not say it but she is frightened by it. Her gift is powerful and when she comes your way, can you advise her on it?_

_All my affection,_

_**Estel**_

* * *

**Long awaited Omake. I'm taking a break for a moment, so don't expect a chapter tomorrow. Wow, back to back writing does take a toll on you.**

**Does this answer some questions? Hopefully, the answer is yes.**

**~Hallen**


	8. Heirs and Havens

**I'm sorry for the brief holiday, but Real Life does but in sometimes. I enjoyed it though, because Spiderman 2 had great action scenes despite all the drama in-between.**

* * *

"_One of the best times for figuring out who you are & what you really want out of life? Right after a break-up."_

_-Mandy Hale, The Single Woman: Life, Love and a Dash of Sass-_

* * *

It took a week before Draco and Hermione managed to hunt her down. It honestly surprised Heather that it took them so long. It made her chuckle, though she covered it with a cough, to realize that her friends-turned-relatives was still applying the things they did back in their world, for sick people in particular the sick and stupid kind.

The requirement was to send flowers and a howler, or visit, hug and then lecture. Since howlers were rather a dead give-away that they came from another world, they picked the second choice.

So Heather gave the innkeeper a gold coin and asked for a private room the moment she saw the telltale black blindfold and the mass of ringlets.

"Let me have it," she said.

That was the cue for Hermione to launch into a long and shrieking lecture about her utter stupidity, her recklessness and her complete disregard for how the rest of them would feel when they saw her, near-comatose and muttering prophecies in high Latin.

"And you're lucky that none of the elves even speak Latin!" she wound up. And then she sat down, panting.

Heather arched an eyebrow. "Feel better?" she asked.

Hermione nodded. Draco then stood up. "I don't," he said. Then he launched into his own impressive lecture. It made a bigger impact than Hermione's because he spoke in a reasonable tone and berated her intelligence, her reasoning and her stupid pride. Once or twice, he managed to make her wince. He probably took pointers from Snape's own mutters about her.

When he finished, he surprised both girls by hugging the daylights out of her. Hermione, after her initial surprise, was quick to join the pile.

"We're staying with you," Hermione said firmly and Draco did not say anything to refute her statement. Heather allowed it because the last time they had seen her, she was so ill that she could not wake herself up. They seemed to want to reassure themselves that she was alive.

They spent two days in the inn, going over their building plans for Luna's school, because while Luna was really great, her organizing skills needed a lot of work. Draco then added that if he was to brew potions, he would eventually take on apprentices. That made them add another wing.

And then, all of a sudden, an idea occurred to Heather.

"Why don't we just make our own town while we're at it?" she asked.

This set off another round of debate and more parchment produced to accommodate their plans.

But it took the Blood wards falling for them to actually act on it.

All three of them doubled up and clutched their hearts, hunching inwards while they gasped for breath. This was the reason why Blood wards were rarely used.

But the point was something had intentionally broken it. They had wanted to awaken the slumbering darkness. Whoever that was didn't have kind intentions to the people in the continent. Heather's precognition acted up just as the pain and the breathlessness faded away. It made her see an army made up of thousands of orcs and goblins. She hadn't exactly seen orcs yet, but the Dúnedain had told her enough stories about it to be sure of it.

"What was it?" they asked.

Heather took a deep breath. "An army. Marching against dwarves and men. There are elves there too."

Hermione moved to apparate and Draco caught her. "No!" he cried. "Stop it, Hermione!" it was the surprise that Draco had actually called her by her given name that stopped her.

"Draco's right," Heather said as she straightened up in her chair, wincing as she did so. "Whoever broke the wards was very powerful and as we are, only the two of you are capable of magical combat. I'm not crazy enough to fight when my magic is still recovering, and Luna cannot watch death with a cold mask. She bloody well _hears_ the soul scream!"

"So what do we bloody do?" Hermione demanded. She was so pissed off that she had resorted to foul language. "Are we just going to sit and twirl our thumbs?"

"Fuck no!" Draco protested. He looked repulsed by the idea.

Heather nodded in agreement. "Those people can handle themselves. Let's focus on something else. My sight tells me that safe-havens are important right now. Rivendell is a safe-haven. Let's make another one. Let's start with this." She tapped the parchments they had been working on for two days straight. "Meanwhile, we have to think of Luna."

They left the reassurance of Luna to Draco. Heather and Hermione chose an area in the wilderness, close enough to a forest and near a gurgling river. Heather drove her sword in a large rock on the ground and set to work.

* * *

Making the start of a village was loads different from building the house that they eventually called Sanctuary. But with Kreacher's help, they were able to make headway in a week. In the middle of it, Draco returned with news from Luna, saying that she would finish her apprenticeship in six months.

In the second week, they had finished the wards. Upon entry into the village proper, one would feel the absolute certainty that one was safe. With Draco's help, they also imbedded runes deep into the earth around the perimeter of the village to keep darkness away.

Their first citizen, aside from each other, was an orphaned boy. Hermione brought him back with her, along with the supplies she had gone to a town to collect. She was sheepish while Draco muttered about the trouble of housing children, but Heather had seen the compassionate gleam to his eyes and did not call him out on it.

The child was named Ellas, and after some hesitation and wariness, helped out in the building.

This set the theme for their citizens. They arrived alone or by groups, desperate and looking for a new start. Some of them were so destitute that a roof over their heads and three meals a day was paradise.

Hermione broke down crying one night; in the little house they built in their new city to replicate the Sanctuary.

"I can't help it," she whispered. "I wish we could have done this for our world as well."

Draco sniffed condescendingly. "These people want to be helped, Granger. Our world was near hopeless. They were happy in their helplessness."

Heather visibly agreed with Draco but secretly mourned for their old world as well. But that was remedied through working for their new home, so that it would not degenerate into the near ruin they had left behind.

* * *

The Sword of Gryffindor, which she had driven through a stone, was made into the center of the city. She used it to look for the next heir of the Gryffindor, since only the heirs of Gryffindor could hold, and wield the sword. So far, all the orphans could not come within a foot of it.

Draco had called the endeavor as useless, saying that no one would be as prideful or as reckless as her. He was proven wrong within another month, when the children found another orphan, beaten near death and left near the edge of the dirt path.

Heather had flashbacks about the beatings she had received from her own uncle. When all the other people had given up on the boy, including Draco, she took him on and never gave up. There were close calls when he suddenly stopped breathing but Heather gave him her blood and a bit of her magic to keep his magic tied to his body.

When the boy finally regained consciousness, Heather nearly fainted from the shock when he blinked sleepy green eyes at her. She wasn't vain enough to think that she was the only one in all of Arda with green eyes, but that exact shade was something she saw in the mirror every morning.

"Who are you?" he croaked.

Okay, the explanations were going to be awkward.

She told it to him as bluntly as possible, stating all the pertinent facts and leaving nothing out. Hermione had compared the method to ripping off a band-aid quickly and neatly.

Either way, the boy appreciated it by the way his eyes didn't shutter down to blankness. Heather was familiar with that, knowing that your emotions made you vulnerable to the one who hated you. The fact that he was showing her his emotions meant he trusted her…in a very teensy tiny amount.

"What's your name?" she asked. When he hesitated, Heather continued as though she had not noticed his hesitation. "My friends call me Gryffon"

He twitched. He had noticed her use of the word 'call' instead of saying that her name was Gryffon. Then he turned his eyes, her eyes back at her and said, "Can you call me a name?"

Oh, how Heather understood! Her heart throbbed.

"Guiomer," she said. "That is the name I would have chosen if I had been born a boy."

The child smiled, testing the name on his tongue. Then he turned to her. "Thank you."

Was this how parents felt, she asked herself as she enveloped the boy in a hug, Or maybe how Remus and Sirius felt when they saw me in my Third year.

* * *

Guiomer did not try the sword of Gryffindor until he had stayed for a week. Heather did not think to let him try; she was too confused, worried and busy to let him try. She still had to consult her siblings' on why Guiomer had her eyes, when she was sure he was brown-eyed before.

But it happened and Guiomer's hand closed around the bejeweled handle of the sword and a large cheer went up from the children who were all watching him try it. The noise stopped the adults from their own pursuits and they also watched in shock as Guiomer eventually pulled the sword free.

They had known that one of the town's founders was looking for an heir through the sword so to see it happen was actually historical. There was a silence, and then Heather herself broke it by clapping and cheering loudly. The others followed and then mobbed Guiomer.

Draco, who was beside her as they worked on a plan for a public library, looked amused. "Potter, did you brainwash the kid when you cured him?"

Hermione swatted him. "Shut up Malfoy! This is a happy event," then she sighed. "I'm just jealous that I left the diadem at home. It would be nice to have my own heir and apprentice."

Before any of them could say anything about that, Hermione straightened like one electrocuted. "Salazar's Pants!" she shrieked and then darted away, leaving the two of them blinking in her metaphorical dust trails.

The cheering sound stopped and made them look to where they had last seen Guiomer. He was holding the sword formally across his hand and was carrying it towards her. He was flushed and his eyes had a look of vaguely concealed panic. He then knelt and presented the sword to her.

Slowly, because she was feeling like she had fallen through a story book, Heather stood up and unbuckled her sword belt, which had the empty scabbard. She took the sword and nicked Guiomer in the thumb before sheathing it with a _thunk!_ Then she made him stand and tied the belt around his waist.

He stumbled at the weight and she kept him steady with both hands on his shoulder. She kissed his forehead and beamed. "Guiomer, the sword of Gryffindor, of my ancestor, has always chosen those who carried it. Do you accept the burden of this gift?"

Despite the fact that he looked panicked and was probably confused out of his mind, Guiomer managed a smile. "I will, Lady Gryffon. I accept the burden and bear it proudly."

That made all of the people cheer again. There was no resentment, or anger. All of them had seen the shadows that drove her to fight. They appreciated her will and none of them wanted to be in her shoes.

Draco then laughed as the townspeople abandoned their building projects and carted Guiomer off for some impromptu celebration. "You are bloody well starting a competition," he said.

"What do you mean?" Heather asked.

He sent her a challenging grin. "I'm not settling till I find my own apprentice, Potter. I don't think any of the others will. Well, not Lovegood. That one is as unpredictable as they come."

Heather groaned, but her actions gave that part of the city a name. It was called 'The Choosing Square' for years to come until people forgot why they called it that. It still had myths and legends tied to it though.

* * *

Luna's apprenticeship ended and all three of them were there to greet her when she arrived on horseback.

Luna's silvery grey eyes had unfocused when she crossed the wards and then she smiled at Hermione. "You've recreated the wards of Hogwarts. Thank you, Hermione, for making it feel like home." How she knew that Hermione had been the one to set the wards was a mystery since Draco and Heather were just as capable with Ancient Runes.

The four of them wandered the city, introducing Luna to the sights and buildings and then introducing her to the people. They all bowed (how that came about, Heather had no idea) and took note of their founder's happiness. They then bowed to Luna too.

And then she met Guiomer. She saw the green eyes and the sword belt that held the sword of Gryffindor, which the twelve year old was holding awkwardly with his hand. Luna's eyes went wide and her mouth turned to a perfect 'O'. Then she looked to Heather. "You blood adopted him! You are a genius, Feather!"

Heather gave an undignified squeak that resembled a "what?" while Draco roared with laughter and Hermione started firing off questions.

Heather stopped the ruckus with a sharp gesture. "What the bloody hell does that mean, moonbeam?" she asked.

Luna beamed at the confused Guiomer. "That means he is your son in all ways that matter."

That bloody well didn't explain anything.

"What it means," Draco cut in. "Is that the brat has your magic."

Heather would forever deny that she had momentarily swayed with the onslaught of feelings. The happiness, the worry and the melancholy all rolled into one.

"Are you alright?" they asked her. But Heather's eyes focused on Guiomer and she swung him around, pressing kisses to his face despite his protests.

Late that night, when the whole town was sleeping and only a select few were being drunkards, the four of them took Guiomer to the Sanctuary and swore him to the truth. Heather dithered until Draco reluctantly dosed her with a calming draught. (They were wary of letting her drink potions ever since the incident. Bugger!) But her worry was groundless, because Guiomer's only response was, "Well, my name was Renac."

* * *

It took another year before any of them noticed anything, but that was understandable since all of them kept each other fairly busy. Hermione's goal for the first five years was to reduce illiteracy. With the number of stubborn, retired old soldiers they had that had opted to be Training Masters, that was quite a feat. Soldiers didn't like reading anyway, they said. But they found no help in Heather since she put literacy as one of the requirements for teaching the sword.

The schools for children were all full with the children actually eager to learn since no one but the nobles were taught reading. Hermione had to tutor the older ones in her spare time. She was horrified at the number of older students she had and had roped in the others. They had the whole city in the Library and Draco all but announced a National Library Day.

Luna had heard of what Heather did about finding an apprentice. She had flushed and muttered about being jealous. Next thing they knew, she had turned the whole hospital into a sentient thing with the amount of magic in it. It would only allow entry to those who wanted to serve. Then she had also curtained an area that would only allow entry to one whose heart was compatible with her own.

Heather groaned and Draco laughed, even as he stated something about it being a competition. Draco had followed Luna's example anyway and resolutely ignored heather when she choked down the word, "Twins!"

Hermione's methods were simpler and subtler. She had simply placed a book on a book stand. The one who would notice it would be her apprentice because only a hunger to learn would allow one to see the book.

Out of the four of them, only Draco and Heather had found theirs.

But still, it was really reasonable that it took them a year to notice that they had stopped ageing.

It quite panicked all of them, even Luna, since not one understood why. Draco had decided to be logical for once and performed quick tests on their blood and found that it was a complete and total freeze.

"Our bodies are simply existing," he said. "But it has completely stopped its decomposition." When an 'eew' look crossed Heathers face, he elaborated. "All human decomposes daily, Potter and that decomposition leads to eventual death. But this, it's like death doesn't want us."

At the word 'Death', Heather stiffened. Luna observed this and understood immediately that Heather had something to do with it.

"Feather, please share it with us," she said.

Heather told it in halting and soft words because the implications had just occurred to her. If they had not done the ritual, Heather would have spent ages by herself. But the Veil of Death had shared her blood and amplified the consequences.

Heather ended it with a whispered, "I'm sorry."

That made the girls move and Draco, after some hesitation, joined them in a major pile-up.

"You've just become as cursed as I am," Heather muttered.

"Hell yes," Draco agreed and then continued before Hermione or Luna could punch him. "I'm going to be cursed to spend eternity with women!"

That made Heather stop crying and start laughing. If it was a tad bit hysterical, nobody called her out on it.

* * *

**The Ritual Ingredients:**

**The Corpse of Evil – Voldemort's body**  
**Purpose:** Balanced the ritual; Power behind the Ritual  
**Unintended Effect:** Enhanced the physical changes and their physical features, because no matter what you lot say, Tom Riddle was still a handsome bastard,

**The Heart of Bitterness – Rita Skeeter's heart**  
**Purpose: **Chose the world  
**Unintended Effect:** Catalyst for the internal change

**The Bones of Loyalty – Vincent Crabbe's bones  
** **Purpose:** Anchored and steadied the Ritual  
**Unintended Effect:** Interacted with the Heart and became a catalyst for the Physical Changes.

**The Blood of Rebirth – Heather's blood  
** **Purpose:** Balanced the Ritual; Power behind the Ritual  
**Unintended Effect:** Gave all of them Immortality

* * *

**Soo, the Ingredients for the Ritual was actually requested by someone. I sorta forgot who, but I wrote this down immediately after I received that review. I didn't post it until now since that would spoil this chapter. And I soo hate spoilers…unless I asked for it.**

**I hoped this chapter answered more questions. And please, enjoy yourselves rereading it or something.  
**

**R&R, please.**

**~Hallen**


	9. Planning

**I wasn't sure if I could post this now. But, by a lot of coincidence, I managed it! Hallelujah! Lol.**

* * *

_Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them  
_

_-Dalai Lama-_

* * *

Heather smirked while she listened to the rising argument in the corner where Hermione was cataloguing scrolls and Draco was pre-slicing ingredients.

"I bloody will!" Hermione was shrieking.

Heather felt her eyebrows rising. Hermione had resorted to foul language, which meant curses will be traded if no one interfered soon. Luna must have guessed the same thing because she stopped grooming Fenny.

"If you really want to know, Hermione, you can always ask feather," she said. It was said quietly but it still caught both of their attention. Heather always wondered how she did it.

That shut both of them up.

"Err, feather? Can you?" Hermione asked tentatively.

Just to make her sweat, Heather feigned ignorance. "Can I what, Hermione?" Behind her, Heather could see Draco grinning.

"Can you be a good friend and tell me when I will get my apprentice?" Hermione ground out.

Heather coughed to hide her laughter. "Certainly, Hermione. Your hand, please?" she requested even as she removed the long gloves she always wore to shield her skin.

Upon contact, she was immediately assaulted by disjointed images of Hermione's future. After some disorientation, she quickly sorted through it, skimming across the images quickly. Flick-flick-flick! And then a picture of a small girl with large brown eyes was staring at the book Hermione had used as a selection.

She surfaced with a shudder, shaking herself like a wet dog to clear her mind.

"Well?" Hermione demanded.

Luna frowned and Draco kicked Hermione in the shins for her. Hermione then realized her mistake and winced. "Sorry feather. Take your time," she said contritely.

A deep breath cleared the small headache. "Well," Heather said. "You definitely will have an apprentice. And she's quite small."

"When?" she asked.

A brief bout of concentration brought her the answer. "Err, within another two years, I suppose. It's in that time frame."

Hermione groaned and tossed Draco a gold coin. He laughed as he pocketed it. Heather laughed too, because while the argument was loud, only the last part was loud enough for all of them to hear. To know that it was about a bet again clarified things.

"Mione, you should stop betting with Draco," Luna said. "If you don't, you'll eventually bet something you will regret."

That made Hermione scowl but she nodded. Hermione tended to listen to Luna's advices.

"What are the three of you doing here anyway?" she demanded. "I'm duplicating scrolls and need the privacy, but what about you three?"

Hermione's question was valid. It was rare for all four of them to be in the Sanctuary at the same time and rarer still to leave Kreacher in the town with strict instructions to fetch them in case of an emergency.

"I'm escaping from my apprentices, at the moment," Luna said bluntly. "I am teaching them patience."

Heather could relate to that and sympathize since Luna's apprentices were twin boys. One of them had an acidic tongue, and the other had an apathetic attitude towards people. But let them see a sick person and suddenly, they were all business.

"A practical lesson?" Draco asked.

Luna nodded. "I am letting them hem and stitch all the apprentice robes in the hospital. It's the first step to sewing human skin."

Draco turned green and seemed to be regretting his question. Heather wasn't squeamish and laughed at his face.

"And you?" Hermione asked Draco. "You can't be escaping from your apprentice too."

Silence means yes, apparently, since Draco smirked at the affronted look on Hermione's face.

"And what are you letting her do?" Heather asked, thoroughly entertained by the line of questioning that was going on. She was only slightly guilty since Meiran, Draco's apprentice, was a gentle thing that used to break down crying at Draco's every snarl at her mistakes. It only took two weeks for the girl to start snarling back. It made Heather's heart warm, thinking about it.

"I have her memorizing all the ingredients per color, texture and scent," he said. "She has until tomorrow to finish it."

Merlin! Even Luna looked concerned at that.

"Draco, isn't that taking it a bit far?" Hermione asked.

He rolled his eyes, used to the fact that his sisters had a soft spot for his demon of an apprentice. "She started two days ago. She only started whining about it to me today, so I came here."

"At the least, you aren't letting her taste it, right?" Luna asked. She was in her healer mode, silvery grey eyes focused on Draco seriously.

"Oh, hell no!" Draco assured her. "I am only letting her taste it when I'm around. The idiot might actually try out the more poisonous ingredients."

That made Heather snicker, thinking that it was something Meiran would do. The girl was extremely literal and followed instructions to the letter.

Hermione interrupted Heathers amusement. "What about you, feather? You actually like Guiomer, so you can't be escaping him too."

Heather grinned. "Oh, no. I'm here to do absolutely nothing for a day. Guiomer took my place in the border patrol. The brat was eager to do it."

That made the three of them give her dirty looks tinged with a small bit of envy. Her apprentice was the only one that was easy to get along with.

"Buggering Potter luck!" Draco muttered.

Heather laughed at him again. "Meiran's bitchiness is your fault. If you didn't keep barking at her, none of this would be happening."

"Right, because I would have murdered her! Mean is better than weepy," he replied. "She could give Parkinson a run for her money."

They spent most of the day helping Hermione in increasing the scrolls and books. Heather did the Transfiguration, Luna the Duplication and Draco the extra tweaks that made the books and scrolls more beautiful. Hermione placed the charms that protected it from fire, dust and water.

When they finished early and were wondering what else to do, Luna spoke up.

"I'm thinking of making an Order of Healing," she said.

Hermione produced parchment while Heather tossed her the pot and quill. "Yeah?" Draco asked.

"There are places where there are no healers. And some places where healing is a commodity," Luna explained. "Out of all of you, I have travelled through Arda the most. I want to make an Order whose oath is to serve and heal everyone they can."

Heather could see a ton of problems that would crop up with that, and so could Hermione, by the way the quill was racing across the parchment.

"They'll need to learn fighting," Heather said.

"Feather – "

"No, Luna!" she said firmly. "You can't imagine the difficulties your healers will have if they don't know how to protect themselves."

She acquiesced reluctantly.

"They'll have to be literate," Hermione butt in. "Have a proficiency in self-defense and healing. Looks like we'll have to be working on this."

"They'll have to know potions too," Draco muttered. "They can't rely on the brewers. If they're travelling the continent, then they'll have to be self-sufficient."

"This'll take years!" Hermione remarked. "Four or five years."

Hermione tossed Heather and Draco sheaves of parchment. She left Luna out of it since Luna was really atrocious at organizing things. All of them knew that, really.

Heather started on the people she would pick out to teach self-defense. They would have to be stern with an underlying compassion to offset that. Luna's healers tended to be really soft marshmallows. The list was surprisingly small and Heather then had to fill in the vacant positions they left with other people. She felt like she was doing a minor round robin with her men. Then, she had to create the schedules for those she had selected.

She calculated the number of months it would take and added in the lessons the Dúnedain had taught her (which she would personally teach since no one had asked for those lessons and as such, no one else could teach it but her). It would take eight months, give or take.

"How long is your program?" she asked Draco.

He was scowling at the parchment. "I'm condensing it as much as possible. This is really going to take a long time. The potions course itself would be a year."

Hermione then stopped writing, a troubled expression on her face. "Oh! This Order thing. Are we going to do this in the hospital or make a new building?"

That made all of them stop writing. Luna returned from the kitchen carrying cider and pie, just in time to hear Hermione's comment.

"That's going to be troubling," Luna said as she set down the tray on the table. "Would that mean the healers we have in the hospital will be discriminated against? Or will that cause dissent in their ranks?"

Luna's words caused Heather's foresight to activate and she saw a divided town, if they separated the hospital from the Order. The vision was quick enough that none of her siblings noticed it.

"We won't separate it," Heather said quickly. "We might have to expand the hospital but that's just to add the extra teaching rooms. You'll have to emphasize to them though that the only difference will be the potions requirement and the constant travelling."

"Why not make potions a requirement, though?" Draco cut in. "Potter did it, making literacy a requirement for teaching. Let's make potions a requirement for healing."

They all settled down again, the only sound was of quills scratching on parchment. Heather finished ahead of all of them and was polishing off her pie, when she suddenly said, "Blue robes."

Draco flinched at the sudden sound and poked a hole through the parchment. "Damn it, Potter," he swore.

Hermione only threw a spare parchment at him and looked to Heather with interest. "Yes, feather?"

"I mean, think about it," Heather started. "The Death Eaters had the Dark Mark as their insignia and Nagini as their mascot."

Draco crushed his quill and said a very naughty word that made Heather blush and Hermione gasp. Luna cocked her head to the side and said, "Draco, if you're upset, don't say that. It gives women the wrong impression."

Heather groaned and buried her head in her hands, topic completely forgotten. Her embarrassment was very strong because only Luna can take naughty swear words at face value. Hermione was in the same position, the ink of the quill dripping from her fingers to her mass of ringlets.

The girls couldn't see Draco take Luna to the side and lecture her strictly about swear words, general naughtiness and the human body. When the embarrassment receded, Heather and Hermione looked up to see Draco calmly polishing off his own pie and sipping his cider like a damn pureblood. Luna was sitting to his side looking shell-shocked and a bit scarred.

"What did you do to Luna?" Hermione asked.

"I just told her about the human body," Draco said with a serene smile that had Heather very suspicious. Years of rivalry had rendered her very familiar with Draco's smiles and this one was the smile he got when he had successfully destroyed someone's day…or week.

"Draco," Hermione stated slowly, because she had no idea what was going on, unlike Heather. "Luna is a healer. She probably knows about the human body. Maybe more than you do."

Heather wanted to groan at sweet, naïve Hermione. She was only giving Draco more ammunition. Heather knew he hadn't baited anyone in a month.

"Oh, she doesn't," Draco said. "She knows about the male body but she doesn't know what we do with our – "

Heather couldn't help it and dived across the table, narrowly missing the cider and the pies and squashing Hermione's piles of parchment to clap a hand over Draco's mouth. Hermione was blushing, having realized too late what the topic really was about and Luna was shuddering.

"Stop it, please," Heather pleaded. "I need to _scourgify_ my brain!"

Draco winked at her and Heather realized that this was revenge for bringing up the Death Eaters.

Heather shuddered. "I'm sorry for bringing up the Death Eaters, okay? I'll use a different example. Buggering figs!"

It took a while to regain her composure. By then she had completely forgotten what had made her bring up the Death Eaters.

"Matches and jerks," Heather sighed. "What in the world was I talking about anyway?"

Hermione screwed up her face, nose scrunched up in concentration. "Something about organizations, mascots and insignia's"

That triggered it. Heather really loved Hermione's newly improved memory. It was like having a handy recorder.

"Of course! I mean, the order of the Phoenix had Fawkes as a symbol or something. Most organizations have something to represent them and some kind of uniform that makes the world identify them easily."

Luna held up a parchment. "Like this?" she asked.

It was an owl in flight with two crossed swords under it. It was ringed by evergreen leaves. The owl looked a lot like Hafny. There was also a remarkable depiction of Fenny the Fox outside the evergreen. It looked like a doodle, which was understandable since it was a spare bit of parchment, but since this was Luna, Heather had to be sure.

"Err, Luna?" Heather said tentatively. "I agree with that, but can we not add in Fenny? He kinda unnerves most people so it would be detrimental to healing."

Luna pouted but crossed out Fenny. Heather felt ridiculous when relief flooded through her.

* * *

**This chapter made me so amused. There was a lot of factors that contributed to this, mainly the fact that I was as sleepy as anything and was on a minor sugar rush just to stay awake.**

**Oh, to the one who asked: Yep, it was the Battle of the Five Armies that happened last chapter.**

**Bugger. Gotta go. My bed is calling. Questions will be answered next time, coz I ain't in the fit state to be doing it now.**

**~Hallen**

**P.S. Anybody has suggestions on their uniform? My brain seems to settle on blue robes, really. **


	10. Commerce and Inheritance

Commerce and Inheritance:

* * *

_Friendship is a disinterested commerce between equals; love, an abject intercourse between tyrants and slaves._

_-Oliver Goldsmith-_

* * *

When Guiomer turned seventeen, the full effects of the accidental Blood Adoption showed.

It started with the little things, like how he could nearly match Heather with the sword, and how he suddenly knew what day to bring a windbreaker. But it started to get really obvious when Guiomer had blue, indigo and purple shot through in his hair.

Guiomer hadn't noticed it and had greeted his pseudo-mother with affection. Luna was the first to notice it and her eyes had turned impossible wide. Draco, annoyed at Luna's lack of attention, tried to see what occupied her and froze at the sight of Guiomers hair. Draco then elbowed Hermione, who gaped, and then kicked Heather in the shins.

"Oh, bugger!" Heather muttered, having spilled her soup. Then she looked up and finally noticed the state of affairs.

"By all that's magic," Guiomer finally said. (He had picked up some phrases from them.) "What are you staring at?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Guiomer, dear? You might want to try the looking-glass by the kitchen."

Guiomer gave a very put-upon sigh and stood up, clearly humoring them. He finally did find out why they were looking at him with surprise, shock and no small bit of trepidation.

"Alright," he said after taking several calming breaths. "Any of you lot want to explain why my hair looks like my lady mothers?"

The four of them exchanged glances.

"It didn't show immediately," Heather said.

"No it didn't," Luna concurred. "He's just reached his magical maturity."

Understanding dawned on all of their faces.

"Full effects?" Heather asked.

"Maybe watered down," Hermione answered. "He's only adopted. Draco ought to check it later if he also got the effect of the hallows."

"I'll do it later," Draco agreed.

Guiomer was too well mannered to stomp his foot, but he looked close to doing it, as well as lose his temper. "Guys!" he finally exclaimed. "A little help here? And maybe some less cryptic statements for people who can't read each other's minds or something."

Hermione glanced at Heather and saw the lurking mischief in her eyes and decided to take pity on Guiomer.

"What it means," she said. "Is that you will be receiving your inheritance that comes with being blood adopted by Gryffon. It is probably not at its full strength since you aren't her blood son, but you will have her speed and, apparently, the hair."

Heather sighed mournfully at the reminder, commemorating her lost black hair. She glanced at the single braid that hung nearly to the floor with disdain. It was all the shades of a rainbow and was surprisingly bright instead of mud-colored…which didn't make sense. Heather had remembered playing with colors at a young age and knew that if you dumped all the colors together, it came out as mud.

"Is that why I can suddenly guess very accurately some things? Like when it will rain?" Guiomer asked, breaking into Heather's musings.

That removed all of her plans of mischief. She looked at him so fast that she nearly got a crick in the neck.

"What did you say?" she whispered.

"I can guess things. And I have these sort of feelings that don't really make sense. Like, just yesterday, I felt like I had to help old lady Hellas in carrying her bags and she gave ma gold coin in return," he tapered off, looking sheepish.

Heather felt like she'd just cursed her adopted son. She remembered her difficulties in controlling and it and even now, her sight often came unbidden, which was why she had refrained from hunting dark creatures alone.

Underneath the table, she felt Luna take hold of her hand and squeeze, while her other hand was enveloped by Hermione's warm ones. Across the table, Draco patted her foot with his own.

That gave her strength. She took a deep breath. "Guiomer, pack your bags for two weeks travel. We're going to the elves."

The confused and rarely moody teenager went back to his room, stomping and complaining the entire way.

"Don't forget the sword!" Luna called out. "And some clean nightwear!"

There was a thud of something really heavy hitting the floor, and then Guiomers muffled voice filtered back to them, saying, "That's bloody embarrassing!"

Hermione sighed and gave Heather a pointed look. "Really, feather?"

"What?"

"Have you been cursing in front of Guiomer?"

Heather looked embarrassed for a moment and then she said, "I refuse to answer that on the grounds of being incriminated."

"Feather!"

The journey to Rivendell usually took two weeks. Heather knew that she could have apparated them, bags and all, but she missed the fighting and the freedom of the wilderness.

If Guiomer had complained, she would have shortened the journey by magic, but Guiomer was as much of a survival nut as she was. Probably why the sword chose him anyway.

The dark creatures they encountered had no chance, not with Guiomers inherited speed. The sword was a blur in his hands and Hafny was often disgruntled with the both of them since they left her no enemies to kill.

When they finally were only a day's travel from Rivendell, Guiomers curiosity finally erupted.

"I know you don't mean to be so secretive," he started. "But why are we going to the elves?"

Heather, who was picking burs out of the horses tails, paused. "You don't understand my fear for you, child. When I reached my magical maturity, the gift came slowly and gradually. But still, it was too powerful and I nearly died with how ill I became. Only one man was able to help me and I am taking you to him."

Guimers understanding of the situation suddenly made him nervous. He looked at her withfrightened eyes. "Will you stay with me?" he asked.

"I cannot make promises," she said. "But you have no need to be frightened about the elves. I have always thought of your well-being, and I have never lied to you."

That reassured him and the rest of the journey passed in silence.

* * *

The elves, apparently had great memories because Lord Elrond did not need to be reminded on who she was. Instead, he inclined his head in greeting and gave Guiomer a curios look.

"Lady Gryffon," he greeted. "You returned."

She blushed, remembering her abrupt departure. "Ah, well. There was a need to. My son has the same gift."

He transferred his hazel gaze to Guiomer, who was trying hard not to fidget.

"I will try to help him. It is just starting?" he queried. He sounded like he was diagnosing an illness. Heather pushed Guiomer in front of her to answer the questions. The child was suddenly affected by shyness. Heather had no idea why.

"Lady Gryffon," Elrond said, suddenly directing his attention to her. "It might be advisable if you leave your son with me."

Heather wanted to protest since Guiomer had suddenly latched on to her hand. Merlin! He hadn't relied on her so blatantly, not since he started taking over her border patrols with the men. It made her heart throb.

"He has to learn how to control it by himself," Elrond insisted when she opened her mouth to say her protests.

When Guiomers hand trembled in hers, she ignored Elrond and placed a hand around his shoulders. He was taller than her already and it made Heather a bit tearful.

"Don't worry," she told him in Latin, because whispering in Westron was useless, not with an elf in the room. "I am leaving Hafny with you."

"Mater," he protested. "Hafny will be unhappy."

"Hafny will understand," she said firmly. "You are more important."

Guiomer shuddered. "Then bring the sword with you. I know it makes you stronger and faster. Please? For my state of mind."

She agreed and accepted the sword as he unhooked it from his belt. "I will fetch you when Lord Elrond says so," she said, switching back to Westron. "Send Hafny."

Lord Elrond was at a discreet distance, examining a flowerpot and trying not to listen, to give them some semblance of privacy. When she approached him, he looked at her with a sad smile.

"He is your first?" he asked. She nodded and he continued, "I will take care of him as though he is my own son."

"Thank you," she whispered. "Be careful with him. I am all he has, and he has relied on me for a long time. I have never left him alone."

She moved to leave, then Elrond called, "That language you spoke, it wasn't anything I have ever heard in Arda."

Heather gave him a cheeky grin, "Of course not! You haven't been travelling in Arda for a while, and new ones get invented all the time."

It wasn't a lie. Latin was being taught among the many languages in Hermione's school. It wasn't useful, but it was being used as code among the healers, along with some mixed Greek, which was the language more selectively taught.

Elrond, a bit familiar with her mischief, looked on the verge of rolling his eyes.

* * *

Heather was moody and irritable at Guiomers departure. The others knew to avoid her, and her temper. The apprentices, who often crossed paths with her on errands, were not so fortunate.

Meiran was a welcome distraction since she traded barbed words right back. Phobos merely ignored her snarls and Deimos incited Heathers temper to worse levels. The only one with a remote chance of calming her down was Hermione's apprentice. Tiny Felicia treated Heather with a firmness that was reminiscent of Luna and Hermione and an underlying compassion that was absent in both.

"You've got to stop terrorizing the cavalry," Draco commented eventually. "Meiran has become unbearable."

Heather muttered even more and finally solved the problem by high-tailing out of town.

Incidentally, this coincided with the leaving of the first of the Order. Heather then decided to accompany them, her bad mood quickly dissipating at the thought of travelling.

One of the healers was Ellas. He looked happy and splendid in the indiscriminate gray of the Journeyman healer. The standard weapon if the healers were the thick blue arm guards that doubled up as holsters. It could hold knives or poisoned needles, whatever the situation called for. The thick, ordinary looking boots hid a metal toe that would really hurt to be the receiving end of. Heather knew, since she tried.

"Ellas!" Heather remarked when she finally remembered the orphans name. "How is the healer business doing for you?"

"Lady Gryffon," he started, then he saw her stern stare and relented. "Gryffon, the vocation that Lady Eilys started is wonderful. In my old village, the one I saw in before Haven, people got sick often and tried remedies that often made it worse. So this is my dream and it is because of Haven and the Lady Eilys that it came to pass."

She gave a happy sigh at his words. It was people like Ellas that made Haven a beautiful town. It made all their pain worth it, to hear words like that.

Heather then gave a smile of mischief. "Alright, in regards to the program we made, give me your comments, all of them."

Ellas was astonished at first, and then he started, "Lady Eilys is wonderful ,really, but her apprentices are such bastards!" he said passionately. "I mean, I only had one bones misplaced, then Deimos starts calling it the wrong end of a mad painters' brush!"

The other healers made sounds of agreement and Heather laughed. "Yeah? Phobos and Deimos are your only complaints?"

One of the healers – there were five of them – piped up, "One of your Training Master is a hard-nosed bastard."

Since Heather generally thought of that in regards to her own men, she wasn't offended and instead encouraged them. "Really? Which one?"

"Hama," was the answer. "He kept picking on me."

All of them laughed at the tone. "Truly?" she chuckled. "That meant he liked you. He did the same to me."

The rest of the trip passed like that until they reached the nearest town. Heather gleaned several funny moments in their training, like when Ellas mistakenly placed the wrong bones in the human body. Apparently, anatomy was his worst subject. There were ales of pranks done to the Training Masters as well. It was starting to become a sort of tradition to at least do one prank before attaining journeyman status.

But for all that they spoke of things fondly, some complaints were genuine, like an incompetent instructor and a subject they would have wanted to be discussed at further length.

Upon reaching the town, Heather took charge and directed them to the inn.

"I'll tell you a secret," she told them seriously. "Innkeepers are the most unbelievable gossips. If you want people to know about the Order, you better start with the one we have downstairs."

They took her advice seriously and drew lots with a bit of strange signals that Heather knew was taught amongst healers. Eventually, Ellas threw his hands in the air and relented.

"I'll do it," he sighed. "But the first watch isn't going to be mine."

Heather didn't intend to stay with them all the way. They needed to learn, after all. She only stayed long enough to watch the effects of the innkeepers gossip.

Within a week the inn was flooded with people talking to them and Heather chuckled as they expertly concealed their panic and did their work. The unexpected effect, which she did not anticipate at all, was the sudden chatter about Haven.

She mentally took note that maybe Haven needed to be turned from a town to a city, if commerce was going to increase with the help from the healers.

Within another fortnight, Heather approached them again and said, "Well, fellows. You're pretty much established here. I'll tell Eilys about this. Some of you might want to move on soon. The goal of the Order was to reach s many villages as possible."

There was dismay in all of their faces. "You're leaving, Lady Gryffon?"

She chuckled. "Yes, I only came to see how you lot would do, and I must say that you're doing splendidly. Oh, and don't forget that even if your robes repel dirt and sweat, you still get dirty inside."

As she was wearing her belt buckle, getting ready to leave, one of the healers caught up with her and said, "Lady Gryffon, if I might ask? What do we do with the cakes and the money?"

The healers had been taught to take nothing, in the spirit of service. Heather found the rule ridiculous. Because no matter what you said, people got offended if you rejected their gifts.

Heathers forehead creased with thought. "Umm, I might suggest giving it to the children and the give the money to the beggars. You might want to keep a small bit of it though, in case your next innkeeper isn't so nice."

The effects of the Order wasn't so obvious until the next two months came and a group of people came, asking to be taught. Word had spread that Haven was a town for the educated.

Heather had acted on what she had seen in the inn and had already done some minor tweaks, like adding extra inns and encouraging Hermione, Luna and Draco to expand their school and their staff. What she hadn't expected was the number of people asking to be taught fighting since some of them had been put on their backs by a couple of harmless healers.

"We're building a city," Hermione had remarked as she looked at the blueprint of the town. "And if this continues, we'll have to add another school, not just mine."

Heather felt like wailing at the increase of paperwork. "Guiomer, where are you?" she sighed mournfully.

But they only truly realized how far things had gotten when they received Theodred, Prince of Rohan.

* * *

Omake:

**When Guiomer met the Twins**

"Hi, I'm Guiomer," he introduced himself. He was pleased that one of his pseudo –aunts finally found an apprentice. It was even nicer that there were two of them since Lady Eilys needed all the help she could to run a really large hospital.

One of them looked at him with indifference. "Charmed, I'm sure," he said in a bored tone.

Guiomer twitched. He looked to the other one.

"You don't need to introduce yourself," this one said. "Everybody knows you. What are you, an idiot?"

Oh, for the love of the Valar. Two of them were really too much.

* * *

**Okay, Unanswered questions last time due to my sleepiness:**

_**Aragorn and Heather pairing?**_

**Uhm, tentative. Gosh, she thinks of him as a pseudo-uncle. That's maybe like, incest?**

_**Legolas and Heather or just any other character involved with him?**_

**I might, so I'm sorry if it turns you off. But the fellow is fairly pair-able. But I'll try not to. He's also a bit cold, described in the books.**

_**Heather and the last of the bloodline of Gryffindor thing when she has siblings?**_

**Erm, it's really all in the sword. People in Arda understand this coz they have enchanted stuff too. Researched this bit.**

_**Luna being the brain child?**_

**Yep. You are totally right. She spearheads these kinds of things, but she doesn't have the iron will that Heather has, or Hermione's mind that likes planning stuff. Draco would be like the rock that supports everything. Luna sees things and acts on it through her friends. That's the short and long of it.**

_**The other apprentices being adopted?**_

**Uhm, no! Guiomer was an accident because Heather was desperate to keep him alive. The others came in more normal circumstances.**

* * *

**That's all, I think. Questions I didn't answer are those that will be answered in succeeding chapters.**

**Oh, before anybody has questions about the weapons of the healers, I was browsing through the net one day and I came across Ezio Auditor's weapon in Assassins Creed, the Renaissance. I think that's it.**

**Needing more sleep, **

**~Hallen**

**R&R**


	11. The Measure of Happiness

**The Measure of Happiness**

* * *

"_It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace."_

_-Chuck Palahnuik, Diary-_

* * *

When Guiomers missive came, Heather nearly wept.

Things had gone so hectic with the four of them, with only some minor help from the apprentices. Hermione was forced to let go of the library and left it to Felicia. Draco did the same to most of his lectures after some prompting from Heather since Meiran could probably quote him, word for word. Luna could not let go of the hospital because doing so would probably cause a riot, so she lent Phobos and Deimos to the others.

The twins were used to doing Luna's organizing and paperwork either way and found it to be very familiar and easy. They also told this to Hermione's face. She nearly popped a blood vessel in holding back her temper.

Hostels, because hotels were apparently not familiar in Arda, sprung up over the economic boom. Heather and Hermione had studied history and knew one mistake could send the economy spiraling downwards too. If either of them were capable of having white hairs – never mind that Heather could have white hairs and nobody would notice because of the multitude of colors in her hair – it would have been liberally sprinkled with white.

To add to the pressure was Prince Theodred.

The prince had arrived in Haven, asking to speak to the town's leader/mayor/ruler and etc. Everybody pointed to the four of them and her three friends pointed to Heather. The prince then gave her a written letter in Westron from his father, King Theoden.

Summarily put, the prince was to learn the sword. The underlying hint was that the king would hear about everything about the while town from the prince's report. Draco's hand signals confirmed that the prince meant no harm.

Bugger! Heather had a burgeoning headache to top it off.

"King Theoden," Draco remarked. "I knew him when he was a prince and I helped cure his father of his deafness."

That drew the prince's attention to him.

"You knew father when grandsire was still alive?" Theodred said. "You look very young."

"Looks can be deceiving," Hermione said. "You can read and write your highness?"

There was a look of royal affront on his face. "Of course," he said coldly.

Relief came over their faces. "Good," Heather sighed. "I made it a requirement in order to learn the sword."

Confusion was on his face. "Why?" he asked. "Soldiers don't need to read."

Heather winced since that always started a Hermione rant. Indeed, she didn't disappoint.

"For the love of the Valar!" Hermione exclaimed. "Intelligence starts with literacy and only then will you start to ask questions. An intelligent soldier can perform more efficiently anyway, and – "

This would have gone on longer but Heather interrupted when she saw Theodred's expression.

"Alright, I think he gets it, Enid," Heather cut in. "You are lucky to have arrived now, though." She elaborated at his questioning look. "The program we created for this takes two years. The next one starts within a week. You can, of course, request for extra lessons if you wish it."

They signaled one of the children to guide him to the more popular hostels. Everybody really worked in Haven. Hermione had even found jobs for the would-be beggars, making them translate languages and giving them a home.

"Merlin's buggering beard," Heather sighed as she slumped against the table. There was a groan somewhere that sounded like Draco and a sigh to her right that was Hermione. Luna plopped to the floor and laughed, prompting all of them to look at her.

"What?" Draco growled.

"I'll say that I'm as tired as anything," Luna said. "But I can't be happier."

That made all of them smile, jolting with them with energy and making them all laugh too. Kreacher then appeared, carrying bread and feeding them. That had been his job ever since the start of the economic rise, when all of them became so busy that eating had become a vague dream.

Of course, when the next program started for learning the sword, a week later, that was when Guiomers letter came, stating that he was given leave to return home within three days.

Heather was extremely tempted to announce a celebration and instead settled for silencing her room and then jumping up and down, screaming loudly.

* * *

While Guiomer was busy watching the changes to the town-turned-city, Heather was busy catalouging the changes that had come over him in their time apart.

She took in his ever more impressive height, his happier eyes and his leaner frame. His hair really took after hers since it had been added in with cream, gold and crimson.

"What?" he asked consciously when he noticed her staring. "The hair makes me look funny, doesn't it?"

Heather smiled. "Oh, no. That's like insulting myself, anyway. I just missed you so very much."

He laughed and swung her around in the crowded street. "Oh, my sweet lady mother! You cannot imagine how much I missed you too."

All official stuff was postponed that night as all of them welcomed Guiomer home. Apathetic Phobos surprised everyone by actually being happy at seeing him, saying, "It's good to have you home, Guiomer," he said as though he really cared. Deimos destroyed the moment of shock by continuing his brothers statement, "That way, this lot might actually have time to sleep, so all of us can rest too."

Guiomer only laughed and that set the theme for their mini-party.

When he unpacked that night, Heather watched him with sad eyes and had to stifle a sob. Guiomer heard it anyway and stopped puttering around his room.

"What's wrong, mater?" he asked, wiping away her tears. "Why are you crying?"

"You are growing up so fast," she whispered. "I still remember when you were as big as a smudge, trying you best to lift the sword."

The remembrance of that made her scowl a bit, but it went away quickly when Guiomer cleared a space in his bed and sat her down on it. Then he settled on the floor and placed his head on his mother's lap, just like he used to when he was younger and Heather was less busy. And, like always, Heather combed through his hair and he told her about his day. In this case, the seven months he had stayed with the elves.

"My gift is not as powerful as yours," he said, sounding sleepy. "But it's still stronger than Lord Elrond's. He has me practicing meditation every chance I had. It was as boring as anything."

Lightning quick, he changed topics.

"Oh, by the way, mater, the elves taught me a new sword move. I want to try it on you tomorrow. I may finally be able to put you on your back." Then he yawned, cutting off the rest of his words.

"It's time to sleep, little warrior," she said fondly. "You are starting to eat your words."

He gave a small token of protest but it was a testament to his exhaustion that he didn't have more fuss. Then she arranged his belonging and cleaned the dust with a simple wave of her hand.

The following morning had Guiomer aghast at the errands that seemed to have multiplied in his absence. Heather had dark smudges under her eyes and was drinking the kind of bitter tea that made one want to vomit but had better results than pepper-up. Draco didn't hand her potions if he could help it.

"Why on earth did you stop working yesterday?" he asked.

Heather smiled at him. "You are fairly more important than any work in all of Arda."

That made him blush. He looked away in embarrassment, and then cleared his throat. "So, anything I can do to help?"

Heather hesitated and he looked alarmed. "It isn't paperwork," she assured him. "It's a tad bit more challenging."

"Just the way I like it," he said. "Well?"

Heather placed the cup to the side with a sigh. "It's the prince of Rohan. He's fairly important since Draco read his intentions and all of us know our relations with Rohan will depend on how we're treating the prince. Can you?" she waved her hand to finish the question.

"Will it help you?" he demanded.

She nodded quickly. "Very much so, yes! I'm commissioning the children to watch him and make sure he has all he needs, and they give me continuous reports I have to read over! And if I have to read Pelan's atrocious grammar once more time, I may commit _bloody murder_."

Guiomer chuckled as he kissed his mothers hands and went off in search of the prince. Guiomer found him in one of the newer city intersections that was decorated by a rearing horse. Prince Theodred was writing in one of the benches that surrounded it.

Surreptitiously, Guiomer glanced around and saw one of the many orphans of the city, watching over the prince like a hawk. He gave the kid a thumbs up and a nod and then child slumped with relief, and then scampered off, most likely to find the next job.

"Hey," he greeted. "Prince Theodred? I'm Guiomer, Lady Gryffons son."

"A pleasure to meet you," the prince answered politely, tucking away his parchment and writing utensils like he did it every day. Theodred looked at Guiomer with a professional eye, and then he said, "You look a lot like your lady mother."

"I get that a lot," he chuckled. "So how is the city treating you?"

Theodred gave him a knowing look and then launched into a wonderful monologue of the city, the lessons and the strange variety of languages that most people in the city spoke. He tapered off with, "But there seems to be a strange emphasis on speed in the lessons. Is it just me, or is it normal?"

Guiomer suppressed the urge to wince at how observant the prince really was. No wonder his father sent him to scout in Haven despite him being only sixteen years old.

"It's normal," he answered as blithely as possible. "The program was created by Lady Gryffon. Most of the teachings were inspired by her. Most of the teachers can't even touch her, so that's probably their frustration showing."

The prince looked shocked. "She is that good?"

"Good and fast," Guiomer clarified. "She was taught by the Dúnedain themselves."

Were those stars shining in his eyes? Bugger, the prince of Rohan had a crush on his mother. Guiomer tried not to think too hard about it.

"Can I spar against her?" the prince demanded.

Now that was a more common response. Guiomer eagerly replied with, "Yes. She spends at least one day every week, sparring in the training courts. It keeps her in shape, she says."

There were more questions about how the city ran, what made it so busy and why there was a lot of orphans in the city.

The last one nearly made Guiomer laugh because he remembered his mothers rant about Pelan, but he held it back by sheer force of will. "The name is Haven, Prince Theodred," he answered. "It is a place of learning, yes, but it is also a place where people come looking for protection, for hope and for a new start. Most of the orphans come from other towns where they were neglected and mistreated. Here, there is a special office just for them, where they are paid on silver coin for every job they accomplish."

"A sense of fulfillment and responsibility," Prince Theodred concluded. There was respect in his face. Understandable since one silver coin was really a lot for a child to have.

"To also make them avoid crime and pick-pocketing," Guiomer added. "And to set them up in the future so they can buy their own house and start their own business."

"They learn how to handle money?" was the last question.

"It is taught in Lady Enids schools. She makes a special point to let the children know about it," he said.

That shocked the prince speechless since those kinds of lessons were only taught to army commanders and nobles. It must have turned his world upside down because he had always been told at birth that the commoners needed the nobles to do the thinking for them.

When the silence stretched out, Guiomer finally stood up and sighed. "I better go. Mother really needs my help."

That made Prince Theodred unfreeze and scramble after him. "Wait, please. Can you take me around the city? I always seem to get lost."

Guiomer finally let out a small laugh. "I'll just get lost too," he said. "I just got back yesterday, and then the next thing I know, the town is now as big as anything."

The prince hooked an arm around Guiomers shoulders. "Then let's get lost together," he said firmly. "And my name is Theodred. Drop the prince bit."

"Much appreciated," Guiomer said. Then he whistled sharply to the child drinking a bit of juice. The boy took one look at Guiomers hair and ran towards him quickly and bowed.

"Lord Guiomer!" the boy cried happily. "You are here! The sweet Lady Gryffon has been rumored to become a large dragon in your absence."

Guiomer choked on that since he could fairly well imagine his mother as a dragon. He coughed then said, "I just got back yesterday. Want to lead me and the prince around the city? It got really huge."

The boy nodded and then turned business-like. "Where do you want to go?"

"The landmarks," Theodred said. "So as to help us from losing our way. Then we can explore by ourselves."

"Well, there's the Rearing Horse in the south of the City, the Dancing Nymph in the north, the Mighty Wizard in the east and Fenny the Fox in the west," the boy recited dutifully. He sounded like he had swallowed a manual. "At the center of the city is the Choosing Square, where Lord Guiomer took the word stuck in the stone," he finished.

Guiomer blinked. "What? Their calling that place the Choosing Square because of me?"

Theodred looked bewildered. "Who is Fenny the Fox?"

"Lady Eilys' pet," the boy answered promptly.

Guiomer recovered from his surprise and tossed the boy a coin. "Thanks boy. What's your name?"

The kid flashed a grin. "It's Pelan, my lord!"

Guiomer nearly asphyxiated in holding back his laughter.

* * *

Things settled down when Hermione finished hammering out the committees. There would be bi-monthly meetings but that was it.

The moment the very first committee meeting ended, all four of them took off to the Sanctuary. There was a roaring fire and silence. More importantly, there was no paperwork. The very idea made Heather want to cry, or scream in happiness. She wasn't sure which. They ended up in a pile-up in front of the fire. It was a mixture of limbs, hair and blankets and felt heavenly.

"Of all the Merlin blessed luck," Draco muttered. "You're the only one I know that can make a city and attract a country's attention, Potter."

She hadn't had a proper conversation with Draco in _months_, let alone an argument, so she welcomed his words, barbs and all.

"I didn't make the city by myself, you know," Heather pointed out. "You factored in that somehow."

"But these kinds of ridiculous things didn't happen to me until I met you, so you might have something to do with it anyway," he shot back.

Hermione laughed and it made Luna giggle too. Draco sighed. "Women! I'm surrounded by women."

There was a silence and Heather wasn't sure if her friends had fallen asleep or what. Heather was drifting off to sleep herself when Luna suddenly spoke up, "We're a city now, right?"

Draco grunted. Luna took it as agreement because she continued, "If we're a city, what do you call the one that leads it? A mayor or a governor?"

"A mayor," Hermione piped up. "Because a governor leads on a much larger scale, usually a large state."

"So what you're getting at," Draco said. "Is that Potter is now a mayor?"

Heather couldn't take it anymore and spoke up. "Guys? I might like the idea that there is an actual hierarchy but can we not call it mayor? Most authority figures I remember were pansy wimps," Fudge was foremost in her mind.

"Would you like to be called Princess, instead?" Draco sniped.

"None of that," she sniped back. "Why me, anyway?"

"You're the sticking charm, feather," Luna said. "You're the one that keeps us all together."

There was silence, and that was equivalent to joyful agreement in Draco's case. In Hermione's case, it meant she was thinking.

"You don't like to be called titles," Hermione said eventually. "So this will be unofficial then. The kind of thing that everybody know but nobody really puts a name to."

"Just like that bull about the Chosen One, except more obscure," Draco added cheerfully. "No titles."

"Yes, Draco. You can still call me Potter and be disrespectful," Heather sighed.

* * *

Omake:

**When Guiomer met Meiran and the catalyst that made her a bitch  
**

"Hi, I'm Guiomer," he said with his perpetually cheerful smile. This was the general greeting most people had in Haven, so he was completely surprised when the girl, Meiran, burst into tears.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

She hiccupped, large blue eyes looking at him. "I'm sorry, youre just so nice."

Guiomer was aghast. This was Lord Hodur's apprentice? He was going to eat her alive, then dance over her bones.

"Girl," he said seriously. "You have got to grow a backbone."

* * *

**Okay, somebody asked me why Heather let go of the Sword of Gryffindor. I mean, it is an enchanted sword and is pretty awesome. I would concur with his/her statement…if I didn't know Harry/Heather that well. Remember the first book, where the one thing Harry desired in the whole world were his parents? Well, this is primarily a desire to have a family. In Arda, Heather was trying to look for family. I mean, her siblings were awesome, but there is nothing more wonderful than being a mother and Heather used the sword to find a child.**

**It wasn't so much as being picky; it was killing two birds with one stone. She didn't know she was immortal yet, you know and she needed somebody to pass the sword to. So she did that.**

**I don't know if that explanation satisfies you, I just hope nobody gives me another review questioning my sanity about giving away the sword.**

**It's not about the sword anyway; it's having a companion that was compatible with you all the way.**

**~Hallen**


	12. Biting the Bullet

**Biting the Bullet**

* * *

"_Encourage literally came from "in courage." The courage is put "into" you from outside. Our character and abilities grow through internalizing from others what we do not possess in ourselves."_

_-Henry Cloud-_

* * *

At the end of two years, Prince Theodred went home to Rohan and returned with his younger cousins, Lord Eomer and Lady Eowyn. Heather assigned Guiomer and Felicia to them, because any of the other apprentices might cause an international incident.

The city committee meetings were something all four of them hated with a passion. Hermione solved it by creating rotations. Draco made it bearable by placing stating that he required all reports to be summarized. He also set most of their reports to fifteen minutes maximum. Since most of the committee heads were previous students of Hermione, it was a piece of cake.

But the city eventually settled, like a child that had finished his current growth spurt and was settling into his new height tentatively.

The hospital had its own routines too and there were often moments were Luna would have nothing else to do but go and pester Heather. That would lead to both of them travelling out of the city for a couple of weeks. Guiomer usually grumbled good naturedly since he was jealous of his mother's travelling.

It was in these types of events that Luna and Heather encountered a pack of wolves. This was particularly unfortunate since Heather was not carrying the sword and settled for liberally using Impedimenta and Apparition.

"Luna, leave!" Heather shouted. "I can handle this."

It was because of Luna's presence that Heather refrained from killing. She was unwilling to subject Luna to one of the vulnerabilities her gift gave her.

"I shouldn't," Luna cried. "Heather – "

Whatever Luna would have said was cut off by a howl coming from the nearest wolf and then Heather's precognition kicked in and she knew that if she did not move, she would return to the city short of a sister. Heather apparated towards her quickly, covering Luna with her cloak and moving to apparate. A wolf made a desperate lunge and caught Heathers shoulder in its jaws just as they apparated.

They arrived back in Haven, appearing inside the small house that all four of them shared with a crack!

Luna, recovering from her surprise, quickly noticed the spreading blood and the wolf still chewing through Heather's shoulder.

A boiling rage came over Luna. It wasn't often that it happened.

"_Accio!_" Luna shrieked. A sword came flying towards her and she grasped it and quickly beheaded the wolf. She was too distraught over Heather to notice the wolf dying or the state of its soul.

Heather had collapsed from the pain and had used sheer will to send them back home before she fainted. Apparating injured always made injuries worse.

"She needs medical attention," Phobos said, startling Luna. She was so focused on Heather that she hadnt noticed that they had dropped in on the apprentices and her siblings having a late lunch.

"I'll take care of it," she croaked. She dropped the sword – Merlin, when was the last time she had held a sword? – and carried Heather to the sofa.

"I'll need a sterilized needle and thread," she started. Then she turned to Draco. "Blood Replenishers and that one that stopped a fever."

"Fever few," Hermione supplied. "Luna, are you sure you can do this? I don't think it's advisable."

Luna ignored Hermione and settled down to work. She used everything she had and everybody moved, eager to help. Only when the minor operation finished did she break down into shock.

"My lady!" Meiran exclaimed when she finally started crying.

Draco scooped her up and looked to Hermione, who nodded. "Kreacher will clean her, so you'll have no problems," she said. "I'll stay with feather."

The apprentices, minus Guiomer, were all watching this with worried eyes. Especially the twins. Bugger, even Deimos was wringing his hands.

"You lot, Eilys will be in a fragile state for a couple of days," Hermione said. "I expect you," she pointed to the twins. "To take over her duties for those days and not cause a riot or something. Gryffon will probably descend to a fever anyway, so we'll be pretty busy."

"Yes, my lady," they chorused.

And then Hermione remembered Guiomer, who was sitting in Heathers office while all of them were at lunch. She swallowed, "Felicia, you'll have to tell Guiomer about Gryffon. I'll move her to her room. You lot ought to clean up this mess as well."

The apprentices, who had been sworn to secrecy about their magic, didn't bat an eyelash when Hermione procured her wand. She could have done it wandlessly but Hermione was taking no chances in Heathers state.

When she came back down the stairs, the dishes were washed and there was no blood on the couch, or beheaded wolf on the floor. The twins were there though and looking as concerned as she had ever seen.

"My lady," Demios stated politely. "What do you think happened?"

Merlin. The twins must really like Luna, or even Heather. They were being nice and concerned. And they were paler than anything.

Hermione eyed them speculatively. "What do you know about Eilys' gift?" she eventually asked.

The twins exchanged glances. "That she has really good ears," Phobos said. "She hears us coming every time and we can never surprise her."

"That's one way to put it," Hermione conceded. "But Eilys can hear every living things voice. It makes her incredibly perceptive but it also makes her incredibly vulnerable. Before Haven was founded, Eilys saw a person die in front of her and she heard his soul scream as it was ripped from its body."

Their faces were twin looks of horror. Hermione nodded, pleased that they understood what that meant to gentle Luna.

"She came home a wreck," Hermione continued. "Only Gryffon was home then and she stayed with Eilys for days. Eventually, Eilys decided that she never wanted to hear that again and wanted to learn healing."

"So…" Deimos started.

"This was the first time since then that Lady Eilys took a life?" Phobos finished.

Hermione shrugged. "What I think it - " the door opened with a _bang!_ and cut off the rest of Hermione's words.

"Where is she?" Guiomer demanded. He looked panicked.

"Calm down," Hermione snapped. Her nerves felt frayed and she did not need a frantic Guiomer on top of it. "She doesn't need you fretting. She's sleeping."

"Sleeping or in a magical coma?" Guiomer asked, used to Hermione's euphemisms.

"We're not sure," was the nervous answer.

Guiomer dashed up the stairs. Hermione sighed and turned her attention back to the twins. "I think Gryffon didn't want to kill, not with Eilys with her. She was protecting Eilys so much that she compromised herself."

The twins left the house, ashen faced but very determined. There was a glint in their eyes that Hermione was unused to seeing in the twins. It was the determination that usually came over Draco when it came to creating an antidote for a specific poison, or the will that consumed Heather to make Luna's dreams come true.

Draco's Patronus flitted downstairs, taking the shape of an eagle. "She's awake," came his voice.

Hermione had no time for surprise, or thinking as she dashed up the stairs.

* * *

Hermione was right, Luna was in a fragile state of mind, but she was guiltier about Heather than about killing the damned wolf, so that was the one plus in the entire situation. She kept nattering about the should-haves until it really got irritating. Hermione could see Draco biting his tongue and trying to be sympathetic.

And in another case, Heather really did descend into a fever that lasted for two days. Guiomer was hard pressed to be made to leave his mothers bed side and looked like a walking zombie. He did Heathers duties with brutal efficiency and spent what moment he wasn't working to hover over her. Kreacher had to force-feed all of them, muttering unintelligible dire threats about bones and fevers.

When she finally did wake up, Heather reassured her son with a hug and a kiss and then demanded to be carried to Luna's room. Guiomer was more familiar with her stubbornness than anything and acquiesced.

Then Heather proceeded to call Luna all kinds of idiot, not being sympathetic at all and making the spectators gape, and she ended the rant with, "I love you very much, moonbeam. I would give anything to make you happy, but can you stop driving everybody mad? Now, get off that bed and join me in a meal. Afterwards, you can check on my health yourself."

Luna scrambled out of the bed quickly and ran towards her. They did everything Heather said and that slowly set Luna out of her gloom and depression and back to work.

But she found a surprise when she returned to the hospital.

There were no riots and there were no disasters. The twins had curbed their penchant for creating arguments and chaos and had actually managed the hospital even better than she had.

"Are you trying to make a statement?" Luna had asked after she had gotten over her shock. "Or is this because I became indisposed for a couple of days?"

Phobos managed a wry look in her direction, and Deimos gave her a scorching look.

"You underestimate the power of Lady Enid's scoldings," Phobos said. He didn't sound like he meant to be annoyed. In fact, most of their looks and gestures were half-heated. _As though done just to stay in character._

Luna smiled when she realized that. "Both of you can stop acting now. And thank you for taking care of the hospital for me."

The boys looked awkward for a moment before giving in and hugging Luna in a twin-sandwich. She laughed and hugged back.

She then left the hospital in their charge, content in knowing that the two of them would do a splendid job. Luna instead focused on the Order and ironed out some kinks in it.

It was also just in time for the first five Order members to come home after a five years journey.

"Welcome home," she greeted them, taking in their tired and lined faces. "I'll give you two days to rest and reacquaint yourselves with the city. On the fourth day, you'll give me your reports and then I'll establish you as Master Healers."

Their faces brightened at that and they trooped out with some laughter.

It was a happy moment for the city as well as the Order because while most of the five Order members were orphans, two of them had a family and it made most of the citizen's smile at the celebrations occurring.

But Luna read their reports with sad eyes, soul heavy and burdened. It was as though no matter how many Order members they would turn out, they were still a lot more people that needed help. Like a ratio of 0.5 to 500.

The journeyman healers had watched her read it and knew what she was seeing.

Ellas spoke up when Luna closed the file with shuttered eyes. "We know it is disheartening," he said. "But at least we're spreading hope. It isn't hopeless, Lady Eilys."

Luna sighed. "Oh, I know that. I saw the exact same thing when I wandered Arda for years, asking to be taught healing." Then she straightened up. "For every year after you left, I have only allowed five healers to leave the status of apprentice to become a journeyman healer. Now that you are back, I can finally implement the final stages of the program."

She looked them in the eyes, each of them and saw their burning passion to serve, to heal and to help. "I have a set of then journeyman healers waiting for you. Once you have been vested in the robes of a master healer, they are yours to teach and to guide."

One of them, Corkin, raised a hand. "Why?" he asked.

"Gryffon told me that she accompanies each and every batch of Order members to the nearest town and tells them what to do, instead of leaving them to figure it out for themselves," Luna said. "I want you to do the same to them so that they don't flounder. You don't carry them. You will teach them how to walk in the shoes of a journeyman healer."

* * *

Heather knew she wasn't in the right shape to travel soon, but she had to meet the new set of journeyman healers to drop in a bit of advice, so she commissioned one of the children to act as her crutch and another to one for help in case she collapsed.

Instead of looking nervous, the children looked proud of the duty and were as alert as anything. Go figure. If she had been in their shoes, shed have been afraid of the possible collapse happening.

But to go back to the point, Heather went to the hospital/academy quickly and saw, instead of the usual crow of five, grey cloaked healers, threw re ten of them and milling in with them were five blue-cloaked fellows that bore the crest of the Order.

"Master healers," she remarked upon realizing what the color meant. "Luna, you're brilliant!"

One of the blue-cloaked fellows noticed her and drew attention to her by crying out, "Lady Gryffon! You're here!"

Heather laughed. "Yeah, and so are you. Master healers already, are you?"

One of them made a face, "So Lady Eilys tells us. I don't feel like I mastered anything but blistered feet."

That had the group laughing even as they eyed her bandage with professional curiosity. The academy doors opening had all of them turning serious and lining up in neat rows.

Luna came out of the doors, flanked by her apprentices. She was about to make a speech but then she saw Heather standing near the back. Her eyes widened and she signaled one of the children to grab a chair.

"My healers," she started. Her voice was slightly shaky since she was watching Heather settle on the chair. "Five years ago, five of the bravest people went on a journey with little to no idea on what to do. But they soldiered on, easing the way for those who came behind them. They returned a week ago and agreed to be with you as you travel even farther than them."

Luna's speech went on for another paragraph more. It probably would have lasted longer but she saw Heather sway slightly in her seat.

"Feather," Luna said as she approached her friend. "Are you trying to give me white hairs?"

Heather gave her a wan smile. "No. but I've given you a week, Luna. You've been avoiding me."

"Well, but – " she started.

"You might as well admit it, you know," Draco said, making Luna jump in fright. Heather took note of that as she turned to see Draco and Hermione watching both of them with amusement and annoyance.

"What are you two doing here?" Heather asked.

"Following you, of course. What else?" Hermione answered. "You're supposed to be doing bed rest."

Heathers shoulders knotted with tension as she prepared for an argument.

"I'm going to do bed rest when Luna would stop being in denial," she said. When Luna opened her mouth to protest, Heather continued, "Don't lie, Luna! The moonbeam I know wouldn't even think about lying."

Luna trembled and Draco rolled his eyes. "Both of you are making a scene. Let's take this elsewhere."

He hooked his arm around Luna and took her to a nearby alleyway before apparating. Hermione wrapped her arms around Heathers waist and went through the same route.

"I'm not lying!" Luna was saying as they arrived in the Sanctuary.

"Potter has a point, you know," Draco said. "You are in denial."

Luna looked like she was going to do a Heather and turn stubborn. Then Heather spoke up, "Draco surprised you earlier. You didn't hear him. Luna, have you been rejecting your gift?"

That broke the dam.

"It's a curse!" she cried out. "Feather wouldn't have been hurt if she wasn't holding back because of me. What good is it?"

There was a shocked silence because the number of times Luna had shouted could be counted in one hand and there'd still be some fingers left over.

"You think your gift is a curse?" Draco asked in his most reasonable voice. "It's a part of you, just as much as your nose or your eyes are a part of you. It's a part of you, like breathing is."

"He's making sense," Heather muttered quietly. "surprisingly," she added under her breath. "But you can't just reject your gift," she continued. "I did that to mine and it nearly killed me. You can veil it but you must never reject it."

Luna sat shakily on the floor, prompting all of them to join her in an unofficial pile-up. She shook slightly as her gift awakened again.

"I forgot how difficult it was at the start," Luna whispered.

Draco snorted. "You are brilliant by yourself, Lovegood. Don't do a Potter and get yourself killed."

Despite the insult, Heather didn't react because it was a sort of a compliment to Luna. Hermione was the one who kicked him though.

* * *

Luna struggled with her gift for a couple of days. She had, apparently, been slowly killing it in the course of the week. Her gift struck back with a vengeance, making her twitch at the slightest sounds.

The only plus that occurred after the whole confrontation, as Hermione noted to the rest of her relatives, was that Luna had a stronger sense of control over her gift and wasn't quite so vulnerable anymore. That removed the burden Heather hadn't known she had been carrying.

Heather eventually recovered without being driven insane by the amount of fussing she received from everyone. The moment she was deemed well, she escaped her well-meaning siblings, borrowed the sword of Gryffindor from Guiomer and went to look for Training Masters. They were warriors like her, retied but still warriors. It was something you carried with you until death. They understood her need to be able to wield a sword and were not gentle as she slowly worked her way back to her old strength.

Prince Theodred and his cousins were among the spectators as she managed to disarm the Training master, even in her recently convalescent state, and they cheered her as she wielded her knives with graceful efficiency and deadly accuracy.

"You've been recently ill?" Prince Theodred asked. "Is that why Lord Guiomer has been a bit absentminded lately?"

Heather nodded just as she sighed. "Wolf caught me in the shoulder. And that child would worry, even if I just got a minor flesh wound."

"You are very good," thirteen year old Eomer said. "Have you been training long?"

Her nose scrunched up as she thought. "I first held a sword when I was twelve. I floundered a lot because the only instruction I received was to put the pointy end in the enemy. My first real lesson on the sword was with the Dúnedain, when they told me I'd get myself killed if they didn't teach me."

"How old were you then?" ten year old Eowyn asked. Her pale face was serious.

"Nineteen, I suppose," she answered after doing some quick calculations in her head. "We've stopped counting years."

It was hard to count years if you weren't familiar with the calendar. At best, she could give an approximate guess for her age.

Just then, the wards around the city, which was intimately connected to the four of them, shivered. Heather stood up abruptly, the stiff shoulder forgotten. She signaled one of the Training master. "A Blue signal." And the man quickly scampered off. It meant alert, wary and prepared for evacuation at a moment's notice.

"What is it?" Prince Theodred asked, eyeing her straight posture and the way she gripped her sword.

"There are protections in this city, your highness," a nearby man answered for her. "And our Lords and Ladies are tied to it, protecting us from all threats."

"I'll check it out," she told the commander who had marched up to her the moment he saw her. She had switched to Latin, the language they used for war. "Do not incite a panic. This is a Blue signal, commander."

Heather strode into an empty alleyway and apparated to where she had felt the wards poked. The rest were already there, watching a grey-robed figure kneel to where they had etched the runes deep in the ground, hidden from the rest of the world.

"Who is it?" she asked after she had recovered her breath.

"Gandalf the Grey," Luna answered.

* * *

Omake:

**When Meiran met the Twins**

"And who're you?" one of them asked. "Another idiot?"

Meiran felt her temper rise. Only Hodur could do it these days, and she only unleashed it on him because he deserved it, but these two were going to be fair game. They were asking for it.

"If you keep talking to me like that, I'm going to become your worst nightmare," she snarled.

* * *

**Like I mentioned in the story, it's hard to convert their age to Arda's sense of time passing since their calendars are a bit different. But if we're going to follow the Earth's sense of passing, then the guys will be approximately thirty two to thirty five years old, with Hermione the eldest and Luna the youngest. Draco comes in after Hermione and Heather is before.**

**This is their birthdays:**

**Draco – June 5, 1980**

**Heather – July 31, 1980**

**Luna – September 1, 1980**

**Hermione – September 19, 1979**

**I can't exactly build an accurate time line. I bungled it up a bit with the Hobbit. That is supposed to happen 60 years before the official start of LoTR, but I made it into 20t to 30 years instead. Bugger.**

**Ah, well. This is what they call FANFIC, and I am liable to mistakes. I am sincerely sorry for not being perfect. UGH!**

**So this just became AU, then. Well, it was AU to begin with.**

**So, they were eighteen when they fell into Arda. Whatever age you pick in my approximation, then that's a decade plus that they've been slowly changing Arda to a better world.**

**Hope that answers questions.**

**~Hallen**


	13. Unasked Questions

**Unasked Questions**

* * *

"_Judge a man by his questions rather than by his answers."  
-Voltaire-_

* * *

Gandalf the Grey's visit would have been terrific and a brilliant moment for Haven since his visit drew the attention of the gods to it. Heather was too anxious to remember the confrontation, and she was constantly tapping on the edge of her precognition.

The reason? Arda was a world that was relatively young and its gods were still the active sort. Remembering the history of the Numenoreans, it made Heather just a tad bit nervous.

Did she fidget? Oh, not at all. Did she constantly think about the glory and complete simplicity of the wild and longed to high tail and abandon her siblings? Never! And denial wasn't only a river in Egypt.

Hermione did smack her in the head that night. "Stop looking like you want to throw a knife at him," she scolded. "You're making everyone else nervous. Feather, you're making_ me_ nervous."

"Bu-but," she stammered. "The valar…"

"Eru Ilúvatar wouldn't have allowed us entry if he didn't like us," Hermione pointed out. "Calm down, will you? Or I'll ask Draco to sedate you while Gandalf is here."

It did take a while to calm herself down and it resulted in Heather not getting any sleep at all. Any other person would have been jumpy. But in Heathers case, with her instincts honed by war and further hammered down by hunting dark creatures, it made her wits sharper.

Giving up on sleep, she went down the stairs and was unsurprised to find Gandalf puffing on his pipe and staring at the fire.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

Heather didn't flinch, but she did blink several times. "It's a lost cause," she answered. "What's so fascinating in the fire?"

He then turned to look at her, bushy brows arched in amusement. "Fire is always fascinating to man, Lady Gryffon. Do I frighten you? You hardly said a word to me."

Gandalf's question made a small well of bitterness rise up. Heather thought she'd dealt with that, but to have most of your life dictated by an accursed prophecy made her slightly wary of dealing with gods and their agents. (Trelawny, anyone?)

Heather's smile was bitter and cynical, bordering on angry. "_Frighten_ is not the word I would use. Anything touched by the gods is something I tend to avoid."

Gandalf looked surprised, as though that wasn't the answer he had expected. Then he turned fully from the fire and sat to face her properly. "The valar are kind, Lady Gryffon. They don't intervene unnecessarily."

"Whatever gods that were in my world were never kind to me," she snapped. Her conscience poked on her on how bleeding selfish that was. It was unbelievable on how like Hermione it sounded. "I beg your pardon. I had forgotten this anger," she whispered.

Gandalf's eyes were kind. "Do you wish to tell me?"

Oh, for the love of Rowena!

Heather looked to the lightening window and tried to get her tears under control. That question hadn't been asked to her since Remus, Sirius and Dumbledore died. They had lived through one war and knew the demons that would plague you afterwards. Hermione was struggling with her own nightmares and couldn't ask and Luna did not know how to ask it.

"Will you walk with me?" Heather eventually asked.

He agreed and left his staff. That degree of trust had Heather trembling. The brisk air of pre-dawn cleared her mind and took away most of her emotional turmoil. It left her feeling strangely empty as she told him haltingly about the thrice-damned prophecy and the accursed war. It was the most she had told anyone, even Aragorn.

When she finished, they had arrived at the statue of the Mighty Wizard. Heather seated them on one of the many stone benches that surrounded it and waited for his verdict.

"Thank you for telling me," he said gravely. "You've been keeping this deep in you for quite a while. But, may I ask? Why have you chosen to tell me?"

In for a knut, in for a galleon.

"Eilys trusts you and I generally trust her opinion on people. And Hodur can see the state of people's souls. Since he hasn't started muttering yet, then that must mean you're trustworthy. The only thing that can get him into proper form is seeing corruption in peoples souls," she said.

Gandalf was astonished. "He can see people's souls? I thought he is blind?"

"Oh no," she assured him. "If he chooses to forego his eyes, then he can see farther. When he uses his eyes, he is usually not using his gift."

The respect on his face increased and Heather wanted to knock sense in him, that these gifts were heavy burdens that did not deserve other people's awe, but Heather knew that he wouldn't understand.

Gandalf's visit lasted for a week and during that time, the four of them introduced to him the beauty and nobility that was Haven. It was a perfectly mutual relationship since Gandalf taught them about Arda and they taught him the small changes they had wrought in Middle-Earth since their arrival.

And since Gandalf knew they were from another world, they eventually introduced him to Kreacher.

It was a rather comical sight, since they had managed to shock Gandalf to gaping like a fish.

"Kreacher is pleased to meet you, Mister Wizard Sir," Kreacher bowed.

Gandalf looked like he wanted to bow back and Heather stomped on his foot. He made a coughing sort of sound. "_Arumph!_ Pleased to meet you as well, Kreacher," he said. He sounded slightly strangled but at least he hadn't bowed back. That would have set Kreacher muttering on how improper Gandalf was as a wizard if he showed submission.

"Can Kreacher do anything for you, Mister Wizard Sir?" he asked.

Gandalf glanced at Heather and had gotten to know her well enough to recognize the spark of mischief in her eyes. He turned back to Kreacher and answered before she could say anything. "You can tell me about yourself. Kreacher, what exactly are you?"

While Heather was slightly disappointed not to have sown chaos, the others sighed in relief as Gandalf had chosen the one topic that would ensure Kreacher's preoccupation.

"Kreacher is a house-elf," Kreacher announced proudly. "Wizards are messy beasties and forget to clean. They are misbehaving too. So magic made house-elves to take care of them and make sure they don't die from the mess."

"Are there any others of your kind in Arda, Kreacher?" Gandalf queried with curiosity.

Kreacher shook his head. "Oh, no. But don't worry, Mister Wizard Sir. Kreacher is tied to Master and Missy's. As they are still alive, so is Kreacher still alive."

When Kreacher had left to do his many duties like taking care of Draco's greenhouses, cleaning Luna's hospital Linens and sweeping up Hermione's dirty library, Gandalf looked to the four of them incredulously.

"A soul bond?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. She had, after all, done an intensive study on the convoluted bond of master and house-elf. She was the only one who could answer with some measure of technicality.

"No. Kreacher is a house-elf. His magical stability is supposed to depend on his master's mental state. In return for that stability, his masters get a clean house." Hermione winced at how lacking that sounded. "I know its brief, but he's the only house elf to ask. When we passed through the ritual..."

The incredulity did fade from his face the more Hermione talked, and the matter of soul bonds was dropped.

In one of the many talks that Heather and Gandalf had, they eventually touched the topic of the country of Rohan, and of Gandalf's many names.

It was inevitable, with Prince Theodred learning knife fighting in the morning, philosophy with Hermione in the afternoon and memorizing medicinal herbs in the evening. His schedule meant that Gandalf crossed his path several times. It surprised Heather that every time they met, there was a tinge of fear in Prince Theodred's face.

"Is it personal, or may I ask?" Heather eventually said.

Something crossed his face. It could have been amusement but she wasn't sure since he was wearing a _beard_. People with beards were really hard to read.

"In the East, the people have different names for me. Most notably, Gandalf Stormcrow," he explained.

Ah. Heather could relate since Girl-Who-Lived had easily changed to Deranged Mad-Woman in the blink of an eye.

"But don't you ever visit for social reasons?" Heather had to ask. "If you only visit for warnings and dire times, then Stormcrow could be understandable."

He sighed sadly. "I was sent here to prevent Sauron's rise, and if possible, defeat him for good. I have no time to rest and be social, most of the time I have is spent seeking the One Ring."

Another Dark Lord. Another Horcrux and another Horcrux hunt. She could understand his urgency, but urgency to the point of alienating your allies was stupid and she told him so.

Gandalf's eyes bulged for a moment with surprise and then he laughed. "Thank you for that. I may have to take a break for a year or so."

The topic of the Dunlendings was not touched until the last day of Gandalf's visit. It happened as an accident, when Heather removed her gloves to emphasize a point in one of her lectures. Prince Theodred handed her the oiling cloth and she brushed one of his fingers. It was only for a moment, but it was enough.

There were horses, flashes of swords and dark-haired warriors. She saw orcs and arrows. Lastly, she saw him die.

The class ended early as Heather went to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach.

At dinner, they were having a sort-of party for Gandalf leaving and she could have easily been overlooked…if the party had been with other people. But while her siblings were picking Gandalf's brain, Felicia and Meiran sat in either side of her and looked at her expectantly.

"What?" she asked.

"So, we heard through the grapevine that you saw Prince Theodred's future," Felicia started.

Oh, bugger. Her standard class was composed of fifteen students. With how Haven gossiped, the entire city would know it by the next day.

"Yep. So what about it?" Heather answered, acting nonchalant.

Meiran gave her a look. "Whoever told you that we're stupid? Come on, let if out," she muttered.

Heather sighed, because no matter how tempting it was, there were really some futures you can't tell to people. "I'm leaving for Rohan," she said instead.

Their reactions amused Heather, because other people would have reacted differently. Their reaction was nearly non-existent since Felicia's only concern was the classes Heather would leave untaught and Meiran's only concern was the herbs to send with her, because Draco didn't trust her alone with potions.

"When are you leaving?" Guiomer asked, having overheard. "Are you bringing the sword?"

Heather sighed again, because her son looked a little frightened. It was only recently she had recovered her shoulder after all. "No, Guiomer. I am not bringing the sword. It wouldn't be prudent. And I have to leave with Gandalf. There is something I have to ask him."

Her siblings nearly reacted the same way, but they had heard about her accident with Prince Theodred and knew she had seen something. So Hermione merely pursed her lips and Draco muttered. Luna only sighed and helped pack her bags.

* * *

Heather fumed and seethed while she travelled to Rohan.

What she had heard from Gandalf had reminded her forcibly of the history at home, the one about the Romans and the Scottish. It buggered Heather that the Dunlendings were repeating history.

"Technically," she muttered. "They haven't repeated anything yet."

As her anger slowly shimmered down, Heather started contemplating how she would approach the Dunlendings. From what she'd heard, they were a vicious sort of people and very territorial. Case in point, the constant skirmishes with Rohan.

Her precognition was useless because a certain event hadn't happened yet, like an important decision. So Heather had to rely on instinct and gut-feeling and narrowly avoided the patrol riders from Rohan.

But of course, since she was so intent on avoiding the patrol riders, she landed right into a group of Dunlending scouts. They were as surprised as Heather…for about two seconds. Their recovery time was faster than hers though and within another second, she was bound with hemp ropes and trussed up like a pig on a stick.

Heather tried not to let her imagination lead to that direction while she aimed her deadliest glare to the ones taking away her knives. Though, it was something to watch her captor's faces when they realized how many knives she had on her person. She did, however, fire a mental scowl directed towards her precognition. It was as though the thing was conspiring against her. She really hated being treated like a captive and her gift probably knew that and didn't show her that image.

Bugger. It made her head hurt just thinking about it. Her gift didn't have a mind of its own, thank you. Because that would just be plain creepy.

The leader of the Dunlendings, for that certain tribe anyway, was fierce and brown-skinned. He had several animal skins wrapped around him, with chain-mail peeking under it. He asked Heather a question in their guttural language and when she didn't answer and looked really confused, it made him scowl even more.

He snapped to his warriors and they took her to a wooden prison. It may have been primitive and crudely done, but Heather knew it would take a lot of strength to break. They had used green wood. Banging your head against it would be like running at a tree. Ramming a shoulder would be a sure ticket to a dislocated shoulder and a world of pain.

So Heather settled comfortably in her prison and sighed. At least they didn't have anti-apparition wards. That would have been the cherry on the pie.

"Well," she remarked to herself in English. "I did want to find them and I did want to talk to them."

Heather hadn't realized they would have another language entirely. A small part of her brain, which she had corralled all the comments her siblings would have made, piped up, "This is just like first year, Heather!"

She directed a scowl at it and went to sleep.

* * *

Heather didn't know how long the Dunlendings would have kept her prisoner if one of the children hadn't accidentally set fire to their houses.

The thing was made of light materials and they were in a bleeding forest. The fire was fast and deadly. Heather still had nightmares about the Room of Requirement and Fiendfyre. She would have frozen and burned to death, but one of the women screamed. The woman sounded a lot like Hermione that Heather's muscles pumped with adrenalin. She summoned the Elder Wand from the Temporal Pocket she kept it in and shouted, "_**Aguamenti!**_"

A burst of water came forth and Heather wielded it efficiently to douse the fire. The spectacle had effectively frozen the tribe. So when a branch creaked and broke – which really would have damaged the little girl standing there, Heather summoned the girl with a flick of her wrist and banished the branch with a look.

When the adrenaline faded, Heather sank to the ground shakily as her legs turned to jelly and bit the inside of her cheek to stop from crying.

Deerskin shoes filled her vision and she craned her neck to find the leader looking at her with real concern.

"I'm alright," she reassured him in Westron. "Just… I don't like fire."

His face screwed in concentration as he spoke in broken Westron. "Thanks," he said. "Why you help?"

She huffed. "You needed it." To make a point, she looked around at the burned buildings and wet belongings. "Can I help?"

He agreed reluctantly and stationed one of the younger men to watch over her.

Well, goal accomplished. Now heather just had to understand why they kept attacking Rohan. Firstly, she had to help rebuild…which she did, without using too much magic. They seemed to accept that though. Their perceptions of wizards seemed to have to do with the great magics and rituals. The subtler magic that she used was something they didn't notice, like featherlight charms casted on stone.

It was pretty easy to convince them to switch to stone houses when she pointed to what had previously been their wooden houses. Heather helped in almost everything and was slowly changing their way of life.

When she found out that they had no deep-wells and were still relying on streams and dew drops, Heather made them one and they witnessed another of the fancier magics that involved the precise raising of the earth. Heather then dug runes on the stones and the deep-well for freshness, coolness and preservation of its clean state. Most of all, she ensured that it would only dry in a drought.

Slowly, they became less like tribes and more like clansmen living in a hidden city deep within the woods. Eventually, when they gathered around the fire along with the other tribe leaders, she asked, "Why do you attack Rohan?"

As one unit, they scowled. "Gather food," one answered. "Winter comes. They attack too."

That was really easy to solve. And no one had ever thought to try and do peace treaties with these fellows? What happened to diplomacy?

"I can teach you to deal with winter," she offered. "But you have to stop attacking Rohan. It's really, really not useful."

Though there were mutters, they agreed. So Heather started the food preservation lessons. She mainly directed this to the women. They accepted the duty with great enthusiasm. They learned smoking, salting and drying. When they exclaimed over the taste, she taught them about making stew.

Towards the men, she tasked them to make a storage area. Since it had to be cool, they eventually settled on the caves deep in the mountains.

When winter came and went without the Dunlendings having to attack anybody, they celebrated with a large party.

"I'll deal with Rohan," she told them. "But you have to hold to your promise."

* * *

Despite the fact that Heather had heard a lot of the Horse Lords of Rohan, and her city was even housing three of the kings' children-two of them adopted, the only one to have met King Theoden was Draco. So it was with some trepidation that she was led into the Golden Hall. The only comfort she had was apparition since her weapons were stripped from her.

King Theoden had golden hair, though it was liberally streaked with white and his keen eyes were the disarming shade of blue that his son had. They had different coloring but Heather could see where Theodred received his mannerisms.

"My herald said your name is Gryffon," he asked curiously.

Heather removed her cowl and smiled at him. "Yes. I am Gryffon, Lady of Haven. Your son looks a lot like you, your majesty."

The only evidence of his surprise was the slight widening of his eyes. Then he recovered. "My lady, you honor us with your visit."

There was a question in his statement. It made Heather smile even wider, remembering Draco who usually spoke the same way.

"I was passing through and wished to meet you," she answered. That was the code, Draco had told her once, for 'let's talk privately'. She only hoped he knew it.

The glint in his eyes told her that he did. "You will join me for luncheon."

"Your majesty is gracious," she said.

Luncheon was served within an hour. Heather was given thirty minutes to wash from herself the grime of the road. It felt heavenly to remove mud from her braided hair. Then she twined a dark ribbon around it to accent the bright colors.

When the king called for her, she was led to a private room with the tables laden with food and wine. There was also a discreet sentry by the door. Heather knew that it was as private as she could get, under the circumstances.

"You wished to speak with me?" he asked.

Heather sighed. Even if he knew the pureblood subtleties, it seemed the king liked straightforward better. A Gryffindor at heart.

"What do you know of me and my siblings, your majesty?" she asked instead.

A frown crossed his features. "You learned from the elves and wished to pass it to other people. So you created Haven. There is also a rumor that you are descended from them, evidenced by your unchanging appearance."

Really? she longed to ask. She was incredulous for a moment, before she pushed it away. Though it irritated her a bit not to give proper credit to her true teachers, the Dunedain, she kept that quiet because she needed to tell him more important than her history.

"Haven City is for everyone, King Theoden," she clarified. "But I will not speak of Haven now. My family has an enchanted sword that only accepts certain characteristics from its wielder. Our bloodline has certain properties and through an accident, something awoke in us. For me, I could see the future."

Disbelief was in his face but he did not say anything. He was a kind listener and did not interrupt.

"My family had gifts, but what I received was something none of us had ever received," she continued. "And it frightened me. I nearly died with my fear. Elrond of Rivendell saved my life and taught me how to use it."

It was the matter-of-fact way she said it that convinced King Theoden, and the fact that her eyes were open in expressing her pain.

"A few months ago," she said. "I touched Prince Theodred's hand and I saw him die."

The king tensed and watched her with frightening intensity.

Heather plowed on, her voice steady and not betraying how scary she found his complete attention. "I came to Rohan to prevent that and have only managed to solve one-half of the problem. The other half is you."

Here, the king finally interrupted. "You are saying that I will lead to the death of my son." He sounded calm. Heather quelled the urge to apparate because his eyes betrayed his anger.

"Oh no," she said, trying to channel Luna. "Your son will die, killed by Uruk-hai. The only way to keep him from that death was for you to befriend the Dunlendings."

He was shocked. Heather wanted to go boneless with relief because that was better than his anger.

"What?" he asked in a rough voice. "That is difficult to do. They attack us and steal from our villagers."

A well of annoyance bubbled in her at the callous words. "And you never wondered why? The Dunlendings are warriors. Of course, they don't know how to survive for winter! So they had to steal from people. Mostly your people! Nobody ever taught them how to survive. The mountains your ancestors drove them into are practically inhabitable," she ranted, forgetting her caution and the fact that he was a king. "I had to teach them to preserve food, for Godric's sake!"

Did he smile? Heather couldn't tell. He was another one of those that wore a _beard_.

"I will do as you say, Lady Gryffon," he finally said, sounding mirthful.

Oh Merlin! He really was laughing. Men!

But that solved Prince Theodreds death. Well, decreased his chances of dying. His future still loomed, bleak, but wasn't shadowed with an Uruk-hai carrying a double-bladed axe.

With that, Heather packed her bags and apparated to haven just as spring was starting in the East.

She arrived in Haven and was greeted by Guiomer with his arms around a _woman_.

Heather felt her eyes narrow and Guiomer smiled nervously, a hand twitching towards the sword by his hips.

"Welcome home, Mater," he greeted in Latin.

"Anything you want to tell me, my son?" she asked.

He gulped.

* * *

**Omake:**

**When Felicia met heather and Draco**

"She's…small," Draco said, struggling for a polite way to state the girls height.

"I'm small but not deaf," Felicia said firmly. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Gryffon, Lord Hodur."

Heather cringed when she realized how rude Draco had been.

"Pardon him," Heather apologized. "He's actually being nice."

The girls' eyes turned wide with surprise. "He can be worse? I didn't know that was possible."

Bugger! Heather choked on her laughter. Felicia was good, if she knew how to deal with Draco.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay, though I made it extra long for some sort of reparation.**

**The person who suggested counting by seasons is a genius, by the way. I am feeling ridiculous for not having thought of that, but then again, my country only has summer days and rainy days. None of the four seasons stuff you lot have to go through.**

**As for Heather's colorful hair…would it really be shocking to admit that the hair was a sort of ambition? When I was younger, I wanted to write a story where there was a person with bright eyes and a person with colorful hair. It doesn't make sense, but it's the only thing in this entire story that I indulge myself with.**

**By the way, Gandalf doesn't remember Luna and Heather. He was in a lot of hurry during the Hobbit, remember? I know in the book that they did eat properly, but I am snatching some bits from the movie, and I hardly saw Gandalf sit down and eat. (Is he surviving on adrenalin? I always wonder)**

**Any other questions can be answered by PMing me. I'm always available.**

**~Hallen**


	14. Relationships and Responsibilites

**Relationships and Responsibilities**

* * *

"_A warrior does not give up what he loves, he finds the love in what he does"  
― Dan Millman, __Way of the Peaceful Warrior: A Book That Changes Lives_

* * *

The girl's name was Cailyn and she had red hair. It seemed that the thing about Potters and red heads still stood. Maybe it only stood for the men?

Heather was torn between strangling her son, and hugging the girl. It was common knowledge that she didn't like being ambushed.

Her siblings must have seen her internal struggle because Luna tugged Cailyn to the kitchen while Draco grabbed her and Hermione sat with Guiomer.

"Are you in shock?" Draco asked her when she dropped her bags to the floor.

Heather shook her head. "I don't know. I mean, I've always wanted grandchildren, and now he finally has a girlfriend!"

"Technically," he cut in. "That's the wrong term. I think 'lover' is more appropriate."

Heather groaned. "Oh, Merlin! I still think of him as twelve! You're enjoying this too much."

Draco nodded sagely. "Yes, very much," he paused, and then peered at her face. "Has it sunk in yet?" When she nodded, he continued, "You ought to prepare yourself, then. He's fairly serious."

That stilled Heather. Draco didn't make exaggerations and he didn't do the dramatic. Out of all of them, Draco was the most practical, least dramatic and blunt, right next to Luna. But Luna had her moments of drama, and Draco had none…so far. That part really surprised Heather since he had been a dramatic arsehole in their younger days. Cue, Buckbeak.

So if he said Guiomer was serious, then it must mean her son was completely and utterly devoted to the girl.

Bugger.

But just to have no misunderstandings, she asked, "Like, a-large-probability-of-marriage serious?"

He patted her hand sympathetically. "There, there."

Heather resisted the urge to bury a knife in him. Condescending bastard. It would have been less annoying if she hadn't found the whole thing a bit funny too.

Hmm, maybe she really was in shock earlier.

"For the moment though," Draco said seriously, catching her attention. "The best thing you can give him is your blessing. It would mean the world to him."

Heather believed him. How Draco must have missed Narcissa, to say that so openly. So, she nodded at him as she used wandless magic to unpack her bags.

"I'll keep that in mind," she assured him.

"Good," he said. "Let's go down, I'm starving."

Heather managed a laugh. It didn't sound forced too, which Draco counted as a victory.

Luncheon would have been awkward if Guiomer wasn't so sincere and Heather was more vindictive. But she was the Girl-Who-Lived and even though she turned as soft as a marshmallow when faced with an ambush, she knew how to deal with surprises.

"How did you two meet?" Heather eventually said. "If I may ask?"

Guiomer rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Mater, you were gone for a while, the entire Winter! And when we sent an inquiry to King Theoden, he told us that you hadn't passed by Edoras."

Hermione interrupted. "We were as worried as anything, feather!"

"I wasn't," Draco cut in. "You were just being yourself, having no regard for the – _oomph!_" the latter was the sound of Hermione stomping on his foot underneath the table.

"Anyway," Guiomer said loudly, making Heather smile and Cailyn giggle. "I met her when I was depressed and wondering if I'd become an orphan."

Heather hummed, feeling slightly guilty for causing her son pain. Then she felt Luna squeeze her hand and felt better.

"Sorry for the delay," she sighed. "What I did was important, but the delay needn't have happened."

Concern was on all of their faces. Not many managed to delay Heather, after all.

"What happened?" Luna asked.

She twitched. "I'll tell you later. The details are rather boring." Translated, that meant, "Let's talk in the Sanctuary." Then she turned her attention back to Cailyn with a disarming smile. "So, Cailyn. How are you dealing with my son? Other people might find him hard to manage. We are very restless spirits, you know. It's in the blood."

It was pure curiosity. Cailyn relaxed at the friendly expression on her face.

"Well," she started. "I just give him a reason to return."

There was a silence at that, because it was fairly romantic, before Hermione cooed and Luna giggled at Guiomers red face. Draco scowled, "Sappy people!" he muttered. Heather punched him lightly.

"Guiomer," Heather laughed. "I'll borrow her for a moment."

Luncheon was fairly done, and Guiomer dithered while he watched the two most important women of his life walk towards the Dancing Myth. He wouldn't admit it, but he was glad his mother hadn't raised a fuss, despite being ambushed by his lover.

Luna was sewing a new cowl for Heather by the stairs and he asked her, "What do you think, Aunt Eilys?"

Luna looked at him with a smile. "Feather likes her. You did choose well, Guiomer."

He felt himself reddening. "It's too soon to tell that, Aunt Eilys," he spluttered.

She just laughed at him, a knowing look in her eyes.

* * *

Cailyn pinched herself several times while she walked with the Lady of Haven. It hurt, so that meant it was real.

Months ago, she wouldn't have thought she would eat luncheon with Lady Gryffon, Lady Enid, Lady Eilys and Lord Hodur, or be the object of Lord Guiomers complete attention. It would have frightened her if it wasn't so exhilarating.

"Haven was Lady Eilys' dream, Cailyn," Lady Gryffon was saying in a soft voice as they walked. "It took all three of us to make it. Most of what I do is to make my siblings' dreams come true." Gryffons eyes, that startling shade of green that she shared with her son, glanced at her. "I would do anything for my family, my dear."

A carefully veiled warning in a statement. Cailyn gulped.

"M-my lady," she stammered. "I would never – "

Lady Gryffon waved a hand. "Please. Cailyn, my son chose you. I don't have any say in his choices. That's his life," she stated bluntly, while Cailyn's mind whirled. "I found him, beaten near death. I gave him my blood and my life. I love him very much." Cailyn's expression must have been something, because Lady Gryffon patted her hand. "The rumors and stories never mentioned that, did it?"

Cailyn felt like she was looking at the world with clearer eyes. "So most of the rumors aren't true?" she asked.

There was mischief in Lady Gryffons green eyes as she laughed wickedly. "Oh, rumors! I love the rumor mill in Haven. Sometimes, when I am very bored, I make some up, just to listen to it mutate. I mention to a Training master that I vomited that morning, and by the end of the week, there's a rumor saying I am pregnant."

Cailyn could very well imagine the mischievous Lady Gryffon doing that just to find some entertainment. Against her will, her lips twitched into a smile. The Lady of Haven was very different from how her people viewed her. They said she was capable, serious and a warrior. They never mentioned that she had life, laughter and the same restless energy that her son had.

If Lord Guiomer had grown up with her, no wonder he loved his mother immensely. It must have been like growing up with a best friend.

When they arrived at the Dancing Nymph, Lady Gryffon seated her while she remained standing to stare at the statue.

"My son seems to love you very much," Lady Gryffon said. "And I will give him my support in this, just like everything he does." Then she directed those eyes back at Cailyn. "Don't worry, Cailyn. I like you very much already."

Cailyn felt her heart seize up. She had moved cautiously during the entire luncheon, praying and hoping that he lovers mother would like her. This was what she wanted, and it made her want to cry in relief, or shout with joy.

"Bu-but," she stammered instead. "I didn't do anything."

Lady Gryffons smile was kind. "Of course, and that it. You are yourself. You don't need anything else." Then her smile fell and her eyes turned back to the statue. "Haven was created to be a safe place. But I can't protect people from all pain. And the one thing that my son is vulnerable to are wounds to the heart. If you can help it, please don't break it."

"Oh, my lady," Cailyn found herself saying. "While I have his heart, he has mine as well. It would not be prudent to do so."

Then she registered what she said and turned red. She groaned when she heard Lady Gryffon laugh. Because that was a confession, if there ever was one.

"That's it with my motherly duties," Lady Gryffon said with a wicked smile. "Now, give me the specifics. When did he move in with you?"

The blush that had been slowly fading returned in full force and Cailyn could only pray that the Lady Gryffon would lose interest.

* * *

The repercussions of her excursion with the Dunlendings hit her that night. One of her old nightmares returned, one that involved fire, blood, tears and _cages_. There were Dark spells and, of course, Bellatrix Lestranges laughter.

Heather woke up, gasping for air and her fist stuffed in her mouth to stifle her scream. It made her grateful that she always slept with silencing spells.

That was an old nightmare, inspired by a real memory of her, hanging in a cage and listening to Hermione being tortured by Bellatrix. It had nearly driven her insane, listening to the sister of her heart screaming in agony and unable to help.

"Feather?" a soft voice asked.

Heather nearly jumped in fright. "Luna?" she queried in surprise. "What are you doing awake?"

"I heard your soul cry for help," she answered, making Heather wince since she had forgotten Luna's gift. Silencing spells didn't do a thing for souls.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Luna continued. She sat at the edge of Heather's bed and simply looked at her with curious and sympathetic eyes.

"It's the old dream, Luna," she answered, because lying to Luna was a fruitless endeavor. "The bit about the war."

Her silvery eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Does this have anything to do with why you were delayed?"

"Somewhat," Heather said. Her smile was weak and wavering. "It hurt to remember those parts."

Luna engulfed Heather in a hug and she used all of her will not to flinch. "Of course it always hurts, feather. But that's why I'm here. You shouldn't have to hide from me, or from the rest of the others."

It was only because there were silencing spells that Heather allowed herself to cry. It was a release from the backlash of memories and nightmares that she had pushed to the back of her mind the moment the Dunlendings bound her hands. Only her will and the knowledge that what she was doing would change the world made her not hate her captors.

"Would you like a sleeping drought?" Luna asked.

Heather had a moment of shock. "Draco gave them to you?"

Was that a smirk on Luna's face?

"He gave them to _me_, not to _you_," she pointed out.

Ah! Hospital supplies. Sneaky friends, really. But doing so would get Luna in Trouble, especially if Draco found out.

"No, thanks. But I appreciate the offer," Heather smiled.

"I'll sing you to sleep then," Luna said and promptly started, her sweet voice rising in a wonderful melody.

Heather didn't have a single nightmare that night.

* * *

Heather had been gone for three months, close to four months. Her siblings had been very worried and their revenge, as Heather found with horror, was the sudden increase in paperwork. Also, she was slated to attend the committee meetings for a month and a half.

It was a double security that she wouldn't get into another mess, and that she could approve of half the committee proposals that needed her signature and no one else's.

Heather felt like banging her head on the nearest flat surface. She wanted to protest at the injustice of it but this was her dues being called in and she had to pay everything, including the interest.

On the plus side, she got to know her future daughter-in-law rather well. (Because no matter what Draco muttered about True Love, Guiomer still couldn't take his eyes off her, so there was a rather high percentage of the daughter-in-law part.)

Cailyn was a baker and kept insane hours just to serve her regular customer. Heather marveled at her dedication and appreciated her even more when she still found time for Guiomer, though she did wonder how their relationship would work.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic," Hermione remarked. "At least you know she has good time management skills."

Luna nodded in agreement. "Though," she commented. "Their child will be very well fed."

Mentions of children, grandchildren and intimacy in general were the surefire ways to make Guiomer blush. Heather and Draco kept at it while Hermione and Luna ignored it, taking pity on Guiomer. But if the two of them had mercy on Guiomer, for Cailyn, it was a complete and total grilling.

Hermione seemed to pull out all of her psychology books and Luna removed all filters from her bluntness. Heather admired Cailyn for bearing it without breaking a sweat. She traded bluntness right back and smiled through Hermione's loud psychoanalysis. By the end of the _'Trial Period'_, as Guiomer started to call it, Cailyn was calling both women, Aunt Eilys and Aunt Enid.

Grumbling, Guiomer handed Draco money, because he had bet against the three women ever becoming friends.

"I don't understand," Guiomer had grumbled. "They were giving Cailyn a hard time for nearly over two months and now they're suddenly friends?"

Draco tossed him an amused look. "Why are you looking at me?" he asked. "I don't look like a woman, do I? Ask your mother, if you want the headache."

Guiomer didn't, but only because his mother was busy, not because he regretted asking his question. Yeah, right.

* * *

The rest of them, including the city, slowly got used to the idea of Cailyn, if only because she and Guiomer seemed joined at the hip. Heather wondered if her son was using a time-turner because no matter how busy the both of them got, they still had time for dates. She couldn't find an explanation since she had no relationship experience, whatsoever. Draco, the only one with any inkling of what was going on, simply raised an eyebrow and looked at her funny.

It was during the time of the year, in-between spring and summer that Prince Theodred was ordered by his father to return home. It took Heathers mind off her son's relationship and turned her attention back to Rohan.

"Is everything alright at home?" she asked the prince as she showed up to bid him farewell.

The prince blushed. "Ah, no. my father is being cryptic, since it is a letter, but I don't think it is anything serious. He would have sent me an escort if that was the case."

Heather smiled at him. "I'll take your word for it. Don't forget what we taught you, your highness. And you don't have to worry about your cousins; the city will take care of them."

Prince Theodred gave her a look of deep gratitude. "My lady, I have never felt unsafe, or worried the moment I entered this place. So I will not start worrying about what-if's. I know they'll be fine." He smiled then. "They are, after all, under your protection."

Heather felt like wilting in embarrassment. "Theodred, really! You're making me blush!"

She escorted him to the city gates, with his cousins hanging onto his saddlebags. Heather knew she would see him again, though she prayed that whatever interventions she did would be enough to save his life.

* * *

Omake:

**A funny moment between a king and a prince**

"So," King Theoden said as he watched his son lean back sleepily. His belly was full and sated, body tired from several days of hard riding to return home. "I had a visitor while you were away."

The prince blinked sleepily. "Yes, father?"

"She called herself," he continued blithely. "The Lady of Haven. Her name was Gryffon."

Theodred sat up, sleep gone from him and alertness returning. "Yes, that is the name of the Lady of Haven." He gave his father a look, because he had read the prince's reports concerning the city of Haven.

"You never mentioned in your reports her youth, or her beauty," the king finally pointed out.

He spluttered. "Father, where is this going?"

King Theoden sighed. "Really son? Have you never thought about courting her?"

The prince felt like he was in a surreal dimension. This could not be happening. "Dad!" he finally cried out, standing up and ignoring the servant that dove forward to catch his chair. "That's terrible. She is twice as old as I am and has a son nearly my age. Really!"

The king laughed. "So? It happens all the time! Have you never entertained any admiration for the woman, then?"

He blushed. "Father, it was only when I saw her fight, then I did my best to kill that crush, because the Lady could behead me rather easily."

Theoden chuckled. "So could your mother. It's the warriors we seem to fall for, anyway."

Theodred groaned. "Father, please. Can we change the subject?"

"I can force you to do it, you know," the king pointed out. "Arranged marriages for the good of the kingdom used to happen in your great-grandfather's time."

Prince Theodred wondered if there were enough mountains in Arda to bury him in his embarrassment, or if he could possibly ever look at Lady Gryffon in the eyes ever again.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay. I'm having a summer job and I am not used to writing and having my train of thought cut off just because the phone rings. (I'm a secretary, sort of)**

**Question I have not answered: Is Guiomer Immortal? Umm, just because I favorite a lot of angst and tragedy doesn't mean I enjoy writing it, so nope, he's not. Coz, honestly, Cailyn is as mortal as anything.**

**Soo, possible questions for this chapter. **

**No, Heather is not a closet pervert. She leaves the teasing of sex to Draco and only teases Guiomer about the other stuff.**

**The other apprentices? Man, seriously. It's nearly been what, twelve to thirteen years since they apprenticed to the founders. They can't be permanently called apprentices. So I'm setting them up for other stuff. I'll hammer it down in the next chapter.**

**R&R.**

**~Hallen**


	15. Scheming and meeting old friends

**Scheming and meeting old friends**

* * *

"_If you're in the luckiest one per cent of humanity, you owe it to the rest of humanity to think about the other 99 per cent."  
-Warren Buffet-_

* * *

The wards of Haven were designed for protection. It drove away the dark creatures with the menace they felt if they approached with the intent to poach. Those that did touch the city with their boldness would then be assaulted by images of their loves ones being tortured. If they surpassed that, the final defense would kick in and poison would spew from the runes. Harmful to most creatures but beneficial to the earth. Hermione called it vicious but the idea came from the Ancient Egyptian wizards, though they did use a sort of pressurized salt-based acid instead.

A hidden rune, which the others noticed but didn't remark about, was one that would tell Heather who entered her city. It didn't tell her their names, only their reasons for entering Haven.

So it was with surprise and trepidation that she felt someone enter Haven with the intent to look for her. It wasn't that rare, but it was the first time she had felt that person.

The committee, who she had been having a meeting with, were all startled when Heather cut in, since she rarely spoke in meetings.

"A guest is looking for me," she said to them. "I have received the gist of your reports. Is there anything else to be added?"

The Head of the Committee for Foreign Liaisons and the Head of the Committee for Trade and Industry both pushed forward one sheet of parchment.

"A proposal for a Winter Fair, my lady," they said.

"Send it to my office. It sounds promising," she replied. The meeting was dismissed and Heather nearly ran to an empty spare room to apparate to where she had felt the city's newest guest.

She was a few minutes late and missed the visitor. The gate guards were easy to question and they tripped over themselves to answer her, once they recognized her.

"It was several men, my lady," the gate guard answered. "Five of them. One of them be looking for you."

I know that! Heather thought as she thanked the guards and went to the Hostel they had pointed out. Quick questioning of the concierge told her their rooms. They had rented three rooms. All of them corner rooms with defensible positions and easy escape routes. She hadn't met them yet but this told her one thing: These men would put paranoid Moody to shame.

She wasn't worried though, because this was _Haven_.

Heather knocked on the nearest room and the door was opened by a guarded man with rugged features. She smiled at him easily and his shoulders unknotted and relaxed.

"I am Gryffon, Lady of Haven," she said with a soft voice. "I heard from my gate guards that you lot were looking for me?"

He looked shocked. "That was minutes ago!" he exclaimed.

Heather had the urge to roll her eyes at him. All of the people in Haven knew that she mostly knew everything going on in her city, especially when she was in it. And there was the gossip and rumor mill to think about too.

"Word goes around quickly," she said instead.

He blinked several times and then allowed her to enter the room, where she almost gaped. All _five_ of them were in the room. Why in the world did they rent three rooms in the first place? Then Heathers eyes started working properly and she realized that she knew one of them.

"Aragorn, you sneaky fellow!" she gasped.

He laughed. "Oh, Gryffon my friend! The look on your face!"

Heather wanted to hit him, but she gave in to the stronger urge and laughed instead. "Shocked me well enough," she agreed and strode forward to clasp his hands. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

Aragorn turned to his companions. One of which, Heather was startled to realize, was a woman. She wasn't a sexist by any means but it was rare to find a female warrior outside Haven. Rohan liked female warriors well enough but they didn't allow them to do the offensive, merely the defensive. Shield maidens, their people called them.

"My lady," the woman moved forward, and Heather was pleased to realize that she found the voice familiar. "My lady, I was your student."

Peering closer at the face, she recognized the brown-green eyes and the round face.

"Why!" she exclaimed. "Fareas! You're still alive! I thought you had died when we received no word from you at all."

Fareas blushed. "My lady, I was lucky to have found them before I died. My companions were not so lucky. We got separated early on when I fell over a cliff."

Heather tamped down her concern, though she wanted to check if she was talking to a living person, not a ghost. She mustn't have quelled the urge that well, because Fareas hurried to reassure her.

"I'm fine, my lady. Bruised but fine. The fall wasn't that far," she said. "I wandered for a while until they found me. I just mentioned your name and they agreed to let me help."

Heather let out a breath. "For the love of all that's magic! You are the luckiest woman! Aragorn, did you come here just to return my stray lamb?"

The man chuckled. "Oh, no. and she is no lamb, my friend. What do you say to creating your own rangers?"

She felt her mind blank momentarily. "Say again?" she said reflexively. Then Heather realized what he meant and nodded. "Oh! That would be swell. Let's go over this tomorrow, though. I just came from a committee meeting and I feel that if I use my mind over this now, it will melt."

This made all of them laugh. Heather scowled at them as she left the Hostel to sleep off her slight headache.

* * *

Fareas was the only woman to venture out of the city in the group that consisted of men. They had sought the Dúnedain to help exterminate the evil that roamed the North. Among their group, only Fareas had found them. The fate of the other men was a mystery.

Heather narrated this to her siblings while nursing a strong cup of tea that fought off her sleepy yawns. She envied them since they could easily dose themselves with pepper-up. That was the one potion that Draco had her avoid. It made her pout a little at the injustice of it.

"I will tell the Order to watch out for the missing warriors," Luna said, standing up and clutching a piece of rolled parchment. "May I borrow Hafny?"

The owl in question drifted down from the beams of the ceiling at the mention of her name. When she realized that it was Luna asking for her and not Heather, she puffed up indignantly and stuck her leg out irritably. He looked in the other direction, the very picture of avian displeasure.

When he took off in a flurry of white feathers, Draco remarked, "That owl really is an arrogant and conceited little thing."

Heather grinned. "Careful, Draco. I wouldn't say that where Hafny can hear you."

The girls all laughed when Draco blanched.

Hammering out the new organization was easier since Heather didn't have to do a lot of things anymore, not with Guiomer taking over her duties. Hermione as well had it easier since Felicia started teaching and had created a system of teachers. For Luna, the only duties she had involved the Order of Healing and the occasional committee meeting. For Draco, he had managed to create a suitable batch of potions masters and had them teaching. That left him in the Research Department with Hermione since Meiran took care of that bit.

Their conference area for their ideas was usually in the Sanctuary, but with the Dúnedain, they had to make do with the large committee meeting rooms.

All four of them groaned as they sat down.

"I think we're having boredom by association," Hermione stated.

"Granger," Draco cut in. "Don't sugarcoat it. All of us _hate_ these meetings."

Luna nodded. "So it would stand to reason that we would hate the place where the meetings take place as well."

Heather found the whole topic funny but didn't want to be castigated for it. So she turned her attention to the door and heard voices.

"Guests incoming!" she told them, making them stop bickering in English and instead continue bickering in Westron.

The urge to roll her eyes was getting stronger.

* * *

Aragorn watched the four of them create an organization very quickly, with the sort of efficiency that could only come from years of working together. And a bit of experience too. That bit startled him.

"You've done this before," he said, interrupting Lady Eilys from asking all the pertinent questions.

Gryffon smirked at him. "Of course we have. We spent several days planning for this city. And we also created the Order of Healers."

His mind whirled and Aragorn was slightly speechless. His men exclaimed in surprise.

"They are a great service to all people," one of the Dúnedain said. "They have saced my life twice over."

"Though," another one commented. "Why do they not accept payment?"

"Oh, they do!" someone else cut in. "They take only a little and give the rest to the beggars."

Lady Eilys rounded on Gryffon. "Feather!" she exclaimed. "I did not teach them that! And you're the only one I know that has a close contact with my healers."

Gryffon raised her hands in surrender and the sound of quills on parchment stopped for a moment as the other two watched with interest.

"You didn't teach them anything about that," Gryffon conceded. "And they came to me, asking what to do about the food and the money! I mean, there really are some people who don't accept no and it would be a waste to throw it, so I told them to give it to the beggars."

Lady Eilys turned to look at the blindfolded Hodur – how did he write if he couldn't see? – and the man shrugged, holding up two thumbs.

"She isn't lying. I, for one, would know. I mean, you have to admit that it wasn't a practical rule." Lord Hodur said.

The rest of the planning continued, and sometime in-between, Lord Hodur and Lady Eilys had an argument in another language he couldn't understand – and wasn't that a surprise since Aragorn had made it a point to study all of the languages in Arda. The only ones he didn't know to speak were Dwarvish, because it wasn't spoken by Dwarves in front of non-Dwarves, and the Black tongue of Mordor, because Aragorn wasn't crazy enough to try to learn the language of the Dark Lord.

The argument concluded with Lady Enids curls looking wild, reflecting her angry state, and Lord Hodur's hand messing up his hair in irritation. Then Lady Gryffon commented on something and all four of them relaxed again.

She binds them together, he realized. All of this city held in the hollow of her hand. And they allow her because she would never lead them astray.

Aragorn finally understood why he had allowed the girl, Fareas, to drag him and his men out of their patrol route to let him meet the Lady of Haven. Gryffon was his friend and a warrior. But the Lady of Haven was something she intimately embodied and you couldn't understand it unless you saw her in her natural habitat. Fareas had told him that he had the same presence.

Can I then take the crown? he thought. His doubts were being assuaged. That was always the effect Gryffon had on him.

"Aragorn!" she cried out, pulling him out of his musings. "Come on, I'll show you the city."

* * *

Hermione voted on the name the Organization on Human Welfare. Since the acronym spelled out O.H.W., Draco didn't agree. Organization for the Unified Charitable Humans was worse since it spelled out O.U.C.H. It lost by a landslide.

Really, there was a _reason_ why nobody allowed Hermione to name _anything_.

One of the more memorable ones was S.H.I.T., which stood for the Society for Healing and International Training. Luna was luckily being sensible and renamed it Order Training.

In the case of the new organization, Draco got fed up of Hermone's atrocious suggestions and simply called it, _the Brotherhood_. The name startled Heather enough that she ended up agreeing.

The Dúnedain, who were watching the proceedings with some level of amusement, were startled when Hermione suddenly turned to them.

"You can replenish your supplies here," she said. "We're mostly done here anyway. Eilys and Fareas can take you. Feather set a discount for the rangers here."

Aragorn choked. "A discount? Truly?"

"Yes," Heather nodded, quill racing across the parchment and not noticing that the discount had shocked Aragorn. "I set it up in case you or your men ever visited. The stores that do that aren't taxed either, so you can rest easy."

The rest of them were wondering how they were going to prove they were the right people, because really, a bunch of sword-bearing, dusty and grim-faced men were easy to imitate. Before they could ask about that, Heather did a Eureka! pose and stopped writing long enough to pat down her trousers.

"Aha!" she remarked. "I knew I was missing something!" then she tossed Aragorn a large golden token engraved with a stag, an eagle, an otter and a hare. "Just show that. It's our joint seal of approval. Everybody knows how it looks like."

Aragorn finally broke out of his stupor by shaking his head. He chuckled, "Gryffon, you truly are an example of goodness. The elves do this as well but not quite so extensively."

Luna answered him. "Noblesse Oblige. It is not a language taught in Haven, but it means that those with the means to help out to help because it is their obligation to do so. And however the elves practice that, this is not their race, so they do not invest in it quite so much."

Draco's lips twisted in a sardonic smile. "And no matter how much the elves teach and help men, they die rather quickly, right?"

"Hodur!" Hermione snapped out. There was an embarrassed and tense silence, and the sound of the quill on parchment stopped. Heather tossed the remaining paperwork to Draco.

"Git!" she exclaimed. "I change my mind. I'll take these people shopping instead."

With that, she stomped off, dragging all of them with her and leaving Draco alone.

Aragorn signaled his men to leave the two of them and he turned to her, "Your brother hit a nerve, didn't he?"

Heather sighed and covered her face with her hands. "He's an annoying bastard. I've been purposefully ignoring it, but we've been covering a horrible truth, Aragorn."

"Oh, my friend," he whispered. He felt like he knew what she was going to say and he dreaded hearing it.

"An accident made all of us freeze," she told him, feeling choked and tearful. "I have not aged for a number of years now."

Heather did not cry as Aragorn clasped her in a loose embrace, but her trembling subsided little by little.

"An eternal companion," he remarked. "You ought to marry an elf."

The idea had occurred to her, but…She would either be a cradle robber, or be cradle-robbed.

Bugger.

But the thought made her laugh a little and she felt better as she dragged Aragorn to the market place.

* * *

That night, Draco entered her room stealthily, his eyes open and uncovered by a blindfold. It shone like starlight.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Potter." He cut himself off, looking conflicted. "Heather," he said finally, sounding pained. "We're all we have. Forgive me?"

Heather felt herself melt and she ran to him, her hands wrapping around his neck as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"My son, Draco," she whispered. "My son! He will die before me. No parent should ever have to bury their son!"

He held her as she wept. Heather was so far gone in her grief that she didn't notice Hermione and Luna entering her room, their faces sad and solemn.

Though it really wasn't appropriate anymore, they had a pile-up for her sake and she slept through her tears without any nightmares that night, comforted by the knowledge that she wasn't alone, and would never have to be.

* * *

Omake:

**Prince Theodred discovers something**

Meeting the Dunlendings was surreal. For Theodred, who had spent most of his childhood life listening to strategies and patrols about how best to fight against the Dunlendings, to meet with them and discuss a compromise was bizarre. It made him itch for a good old fashioned fight.

Eomer, who was about to finish his schooling in Haven, would have been a bad idea for the treaties. He had a bad and quick temper. It was a good thing Theodred was older than his cousin by several years or else this thing will blow to kingdom come.

"Seedlings," the tribe leader was muttering. "To plant. That was what the Lady advised."

Wait, what?

"Pardon. I will grant you the seedlings, but what Lady?" Theodred asked.

A dreamy expression crossed the leaders face. "She come, taught us better life, gave us hope, protected us from the evil men and evil wolves. She be a goddess, princeling," the man said solemnly. Then he showed him a carving of the Lady and Theodred nearly killed himself in choking down his shock.

Because no matter how crudely done it was, the wooden carving showed the Lady of Haven.

For the love of the Valar, was he dreaming this?

* * *

**LOL moments. I laughed a lot writing this stuff, and I cried a lot too. I think I'm seriously bi-polar, or just mercurial. **

**Did I answer some questions? Coz someone asked a bit about warrior women and Rohan, and I realized that not everybody read the book, you know? So I just crowbarred it into this chapter.**

**R&R.**

**~Hallen**


	16. Unions and Surprises

**Unions and Surprises**

* * *

"_It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages."  
― Friedrich Nietzsche_

* * *

The Brotherhood took most of her time and Heather used that to work around her grief. By the time Winter was over and Spring had officially started, Heather could finally look at her son without feeling the sharp pang in her chest.

She totally forgot several pertinent details, including the fact that her son had a lover. So she was completely shocked when her office door suddenly banged open and Guiomer raced forward, his cheeks flushed, eyes shining and hair going every which way.

It reminded her of when Guiomer was still twelve, when he used to run in her office in the same manner and then proceed to pester her on some sword moves he could try out.

Heather blinked several times to clear the image and looked at her impatient son. "Yes?" she asked.

"Mater," he panted. "I asked, and she said yes!"

It took Heather several moments to register his words, and then she realized what they _meant_ and her jaw dropped.

"Wait," she spluttered. "Just to clear any misunderstandings. You proposed and Cailyn said yes?" At his fervent and slightly hysterical nod, Heather grinned. "What, you haven't planned beyond asking her?"

His entire face blanked and Heather laughed outright. She decided to postpone her paperwork for midnight since she had a son to spoil.

"You nutter," she remarked. "Now is not the time to panic. That comes later. Besides, you have two aunts, one mother and a future wife. I don't think you'll ever get to do much of anything."

"Really?" he asked, sounding hopeful.

Heather shook her head at him, completely bemused. But she couldn't help but understand his helplessness. It's not every day you asked the woman you love for her hand in marriage.

She took him to Draco's office, which was in the Research and Development Facility. He looked completely annoyed at the intrusion, but he straightened up once he caught sight of the smirk on her lips.

"Yeah?" Draco asked.

"I know you're busy," she started. "But this is something else. Can you take him out for a drink? We need to gather everyone and have a celebration. I need you to distract him." She jerked her thumb at her fidgeting son. "He just popped the question."

Guiomer's eyes looked glazed. Draco took a good look at him and understood Heathers amusement. He probably hadn't planned to ask and just blurted it out, and after an initial celebration with Cailyn, he probably realized what he'd done and went to his mother's office in a panic.

Draco's smile was shark-like. "I can't get him roaring drunk?" he asked with obvious regret in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "No. Even if you have hangover cures, which I know you invented, you don't want to see him drunk. Guiomer is a cuddly drunk."

He blanched and she laughed at him.

Once heather had left Guiomer in Draco's capable hands, she headed straight to Hermione's office. It was perfectly adjacent to Draco's office. She didn't even have to leave the building, which she appreciated.

"What?" Hermione asked crossly. Her hair seemed to be seething in her annoyance. It always made Heather wonder if Hermione's hair had a mind of its own. Draco called it the 'warning bells'.

"Let's go find Luna, your assistant and Meiran," Heather answered with a grin. "My son just proposed."

Hermione's eyes turned wide and she hastily scrambled after Heather, annoyance forgotten. Her eyes sparkled as she pestered Heather for details.

* * *

Nobody really found it to be news. They had, after all, watched and waited as Guiomer and Cailyn dated for a year and a month. Plenty of money changed hands though since a number of people betted on the wedding date. Heather had been banned from betting by virtue of her gift of foresight. She pouted at the injustice of it while her friends had laughed at her.

Cailyn found herself surrounded by Hermione, Luna, Meiran and Felicia. They chattered excitedly like magpies, laughing at her slightly flushed face. If Hermione wasn't included, it would have degenerated into feminine gossip. But since Hermione was there, the five women immediately started planning the outline of the wedding.

Because it was a party, no parchment or quills were produced, but they had narrowed it down to a Summer wedding with Gandalf the Grey presiding.

Initially, it was supposed to be a Winter Wedding, but Draco's practicality interrupted. Hermione's logical mind had to concede to the argument.

"We can't afford a Winter banquet," he said. "it's the time when we start using the stored food."

"Not Autumn either," Hermione added absently. "Since that's when we organize our hunting parties. So it's a Summer wedding."

A Summer wedding, because if they made it a Spring one, there would be a minor revolt among the womenfolk. And nobody wanted to see how Guiomer and Cailyn would fare if they waited for next Spring.

Draco grunted in agreement. Heather chortled at how mollified Draco was that his suggestion was actually taken into account.

"Merlin," he remarked. "I just _set_ the date for the wedding. Nobody should hear about that. They're going to be magic-blessed pissed at me for making them lose their bets."

Heather gave up on trying to control her amusement and just laughed at him.

The matter of Gandalf presiding over the wedding was another thing. Once the suggestion was given, everyone turned to look at Heather since she was the only one with the means to contact him. She was tempted to make most of them loose their patience by acting stupid, but she realized that the Terrible Two (Phobos and Deimos), were actually behaving themselves so she stamped down on her mischief.

"Hafny?" she said instead. "Ask her. But personally, I think this'll be hard since she has a crush on Maethor."

Aragorn's black eagle-owl had taken to showing up once every other day. Initially, Heather had been worried if it meant Aragorn's safety had been compromised, but after asking Hafny, she had been relieved when she received the impression of Heather being silly and Maethor being a _mate-mate-mate_.

It totally made her wonder how that happened since Maethor was technically Hafny's cousin. But they were _birds_, so…never mind.

But going back to the point, it was going to be difficult asking Hafny to deliver a letter since she tended to be a moody owl if Maethor wasn't there.

"Don't be ridiculous, feather," Luna sighed. "Really. They may be courting buy Hafny still has a covenant with you."

It was Meiran who answered for Heather. "Covenant and what-not, that owl is still the veriest bitch when that black one isn't around."

Draco was overtaken by a sudden and violent coughing. Heather, who was the closest to him could barely just hear the words, "pot, kettle!"

Heather managed to swallow her grin before any of the others could see the quirk of her lips.

* * *

It was a city-wide celebration, really. Heather was all but an inch from declaring it a holiday. Honestly, there were even drunks sprawled on the cobblestones.

With all her colleagues suddenly turning wedding-mad, it was up to Heather to commence clean-up. So she rolled up her sleeves, took out her coin pouch and whistled for some children.

It didn't surprise her to find a dozen children arriving. They were probably watching to see what she would do.

"My lady," the bowed clumsily.

"Any of you lot know where to find pails?" she asked immediately.

They nodded and she pushed them in the direction of the city well. The last child was nearing adulthood and she instead pushed him in the direction of a wheelbarrow. It was to cart off those that wouldn't wake up when splashed with water.

It was a hilarious way to spend her morning. There were several people who she saw in compromising positions and several more people who were completely naked. Upon questioning, they found that they had no memory of how it happened.

It wasn't the first time she had done 'city clean-up' but it was the first time she had done it alone.

By the time noon came, Heather's muscles were pleasantly sore from carting around drunkards. She was in a pleasant mood from torturing the ones having hangovers.

That's why it was quite a surprise for her to find a twitchy Cailyn in the dining room. It didn't match the pleasant atmosphere of the city.

Come to think of it, heather didn't get to talk to Cailyn in the pre-wedding party since Cailyn go mobbed by the other women.

"Cailyn, my dear!" Heather said with honest surprise. "You certainly look nervous."

Cailyn went even worse. "Oh, no. I'm fine, my lady," she answered. "I'm just waiting for Lord Guiomer."

Warning bells rang in Heather's mind. Since when did Cailyn call Guiomer by his title?

She didn't tend to interfere in these kinds of relationships, but if she could help…

"Cailyn, are you alright?" Heather asked. "The pre-wedding jitters are supposed to happen a couple of hours before the wedding, not months before – "

Cailyn suddenly jumped up, scraping her chair backwards and startling Heather. There was a groan of pain from someone by the sofa. That partly distracted Heather since that groan of pain meant that someone was hung-over in her house. That only lasted until Cailyn started talking.

"Why me?" she started. "I mean, I love Lord Guiomer and he surprised me yesterday and so I agreed. But now that I think about it, why me? There are half-a-dozen other women in Haven who want him."

Heather opened her mouth to interrupt, but Cailyn steamrolled right over her. Normally, that wouldn't happen since Cailyn was the courteous and polite sort. That it happened meant that Cailyn was truly distraught.

"I can't help thinking that he's selling himself short!" she continued. "He's kind, so maybe he thought I expected him to ask and did it just not to break my heart, but really – "

The mother in Heather couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Excuse me?" Heather cut in sharply. "Are you telling me that you think my son only asked you out of pity?"

There was a squeak from Cailyn that Heather took for a yes. Since her temper had broken, Heather was fairly frightening. Really, a reason why she became the Lady of Haven.

"I raised my son to respect women," Heather continued irritably. "And that aspect includes not stringing women along for his entertainment. I won't have you questioning that just because you have a low self-esteem."

Cailyn visibly calmed down and Heather pinched the bridge of her nose to hold back her sigh.

Another groan form the sofa and Heather's simmering temper cooled when she finally turned around and saw who it was.

"Hodur?" she asked incredulously. "What happened to your bed?"

His forearm was covering his eyes and he gave a pathetic whimper at the sound of her voice. He flapped a hand weakly in her direction.

"Shut up, will you?" he pleaded. "My head feels like the wrong end of a training stick."

Being a kind sister, she ignored him and pushed down the urge to bang pots and pans. It was a surprisingly difficult urge to push down. She felt saint-like in doing so.

"Are you fine now? Really?" she asked Cailyn instead.

She nodded. "Thank you, my lady."

Heather rolled her eyes and went up the stairs. She wondered why people thought she was good with _feelings_. That was Hermione and Luna's area of expertise.

And then Guiomer nearly ran over her.

"For Godric's sake!" she exclaimed. Then she noticed what her son was wearing and her eyes went wide. "Take that off! Guiomer, you look ridiculous!"

"Mater, what?" he asked in a puzzled way.

The realization hit her when she sniffed his breath. "Are you hung-over, or did you return to drinking when you woke up this morning?"

His cringe answered her.

Feelings be damned. She knew what to do with panicky males. Heather grabbed his hand and wrestled off the ridiculous shirt he was wearing. Then she proceeded to drag him to the training court with a half-hearted wave to a startled Cailyn.

* * *

The wedding day dawned bright and clear. The sky was blue with only the occasional hint of clouds. The birds were singing and the flowers were cheerfully arranged.

It was the sort of thing that happened in fairy tales.

It was the sort of thing that made Heather slightly appalled since she felt like she'd wandered in a book, or used a Patented Daydream Charm and forgot about it. So she turned to the only one who understood her feelings.

"Pinch me," she begged Draco.

He gave her a disgusted look – how did he do that so effectively if he was blindfolded? – and said, "It's so…sweet." It was one of his politer adjectives.

She agreed with him, if only mildly. Heather had, to her horror, discovered that she had a feminine side that_ liked_ the decorations and the festive air. She hadn't known that about herself and she liked to think that she knew herself pretty well.

By the front of the aisle, as though he knew her thoughts, Gandalf smirked at her. Hypothetically of course. She wasn't sure, what with his beard.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked as she swept in cheerfully. "By golly, I think everyone is here."

Heather and Draco exchanged long-suffering glances while Luna smiled serenely at them. Hurricane Hermione had at least settled down to a mild storm.

"Think of it this way, feather," Luna said. "Everybody will remember nothing with the amount of drinking that will happen."

"If you ever think about getting married, don't tell Hermione," Draco said. "I can't do this again. That woman is a menace."

Heather rolled her eyes at him. "You wuss. You're lucky to have tried her now that she's in her thirties. When we were younger, she was even worse."

S.P.E.W. was foremost in her mind as Draco shot her a disbelieving look.

"Quiet down, you two. It's starting," Hermione said.

The ceremony was beautiful. Halfway through it, Heather found herself crying. Even Draco cracked a smile. In essence, they had all forgotten the true meaning of marriage in the hustle and bustle of the preparations. They were reminded when they saw Cailyn's serene smile and Guiomer's breathtakingly happy expression.

It was a union between two people. That was the big and small of it. The gowns didn't matter. The flowers were just a small part of it. Heather smiled as she cried over that.

"You big sap," Draco said, but there was no sting in his words. He too had been reminded of the _why_.

The ceremony ended in a big cheer as Guiomer kissed Cailyn tenderly.

"There's the dancing to look forward to," a guest behind her said.

"And the drinking," a familiar voice agreed.

Heather turned and saw Aragorn's smiling face. She gaped at him for a moment before laughing. "You crazy fellow!" she gasped. "You didn't say anything!"

He laughed with her. "I thought you might know," he gestured to his temples, indicating her gift. "And my men and the Brotherhood would have given me grief if we didn't attend."

When Heather looked around, she realized that the badge of the Brotherhood was prominently displayed by the city walls.

"The hospitality of Haven is hard to replicate," she conceded. "And you know I don't like to rely on my gifts."

Aragorn nodded. "True." He gestured to the ones behind him. "These are my brothers."

Heather blinked several times as her brain tried to catch up with her eyes. "Is that Elladan and Elrohir?"

"They usually go with us on patrols and they were with me when your letter came," he expounded.

"I've already met them," Heather said. She glanced around and saw the arrangement of everything. "This is the best part, you know."

"What is?" Elladan asked.

"Dragging unsuspecting males to the dance floor," she answered as she grabbed one of the twins to join in the dancing.

* * *

Hermione had met elves before when she had visited Heather in Rivendell, when she was ill and unconscious so she knew what she was looking at when she saw Elladan of Rivendell.

"Why!" she exclaimed. "What brings you to Haven?"

He gave her a small smile. "My brother received a letter – an invitation to this wedding and we decided to accompany him." He gestured to the dance floor where another elf was gracefully dancing with Heather.

Several synapses connected in Hermione's mind and she nodded. "You must be Lord Elrond's twin sons. Gryffon told me about you. Is it true that you rode on a mountain troll and drove him off a cliff?"

Elladan was surprised for a moment, before he laughed. "Yes, I did. A highly entertaining things to do. And you must be Lady Enid. The smart one."

A pang of pleasure rushed through Hermione. "Yes, I am."

He offered her a hand. "Can I have this dance, my lady?"

There was a moment of alarm before Hermione forced herself to relax and accept his invitation. She didn't regret it one bit.

He danced like he _ate_ the music. He was graceful and strong. Hermione's new height complimented his so it wasn't awkward. It was a perfect fit. She could feel her very bones and her magic trying to bend themselves around him.

When the music ended, she was breathless and he was wide-eyed.

"Did you…?" she whispered because speaking would have destroyed the magic of it.

"Yes," he answered very softly. "That rarely happens."

Hermione could tell he was close to panicking so she allowed him to find his twin despite the numerous questions she wanted to ask.

* * *

Even if all of them wanted to join the drinking, they remained sober for Cailyn's sake. Because it was on the following morning that all of them went to the Sanctuary and showed Cailyn the truth of their world.

Guiomer had to be dosed with a small bit of calming draught while Draco complained of Mother and Son being rather alike.

Cailyn did panic for a moment before she saw Guiomer's fearful expression and she realized that nothing really changed. Only that she knew the truth.

"Oh," she finally managed to say. "That certainly answers some questions."

They all completely relaxed when Cailyn laughed and it did not sound hysterical.

* * *

Omake:

**How Heather's actions saved a Prince's life**

It was sheer accident, really. But the Dunlendings eventually found out that the one they worshiped as a goddess had taught him and they suddenly focused all of their attention on him.

It was unnerving.

"The disciple of the Lady," one of the tribe leaders muttered. "He be great too."

They all nodded solemnly.

"We shall place a guard with the princeling!" another one declared. "He cannot come to harm!"

They all yelled in agreement and banged their spears on the floor.

Theodred resisted the urge to concuss himself on the wall behind him. It would be as difficult as anything to explain to his father why he had a guard of Dunlendings following his every move.

* * *

**Guys, sorry for the delay. I honestly have no idea why this took so long. And I think I'm slipping on my standards of writing so hurry up and reassure me.**

**Questions that cropped up:**

_**Are the Omake's part of the story?**_

**Yup, they are. I know they're part of it, I just don't know where to put them, so I make them Omake's.**

_**Will Heather get another sword?**_

**Uhm, I seriously don't know. I think so. Heather is still completely deadly with just her knives, so it's not like she needs a sword.**

_**How come they've been around for a while and not found someone of interest?**_

**Think about it. They're in a new world and they don't have any clue on what to do. They get busy and they're suddenly happy. And then, they find out that they're immortal. Kinda puts you off the whole dating thing, don't you think? Just my personal opinion.**

**I think that's it. This is probably the last of the Theodred Omake's. Anything that might crop up regarding him will be added later.**

**Please R&R. **

**~Hallen**


	17. Compromise

**Compromise**

* * *

"_They say all marriages are made in heaven, but so are thunder and lightning."  
― Clint Eastwood_

* * *

Heather had to wonder if Draco was slipping potions in her tea as she calmly listened to Guiomer rant for the third time without feeling any headache.

Merlin, it had only been three months after the wedding and their arguments had started. Heather knew married couples had arguments, but this was ridiculous. Who had arguments every other day?

"Guiomer," Heather interrupted. "Just give me the gist of it. What _exactly_ is the problem?"

He stood stock still before throwing his hands up in frustration. "She doesn't listen!" he yelled. Aggravation was in his every feature. He was the very picture of a very put-upon male. For Salazar's sake, he even got the perfect pose to go with it.

Luckily, Heather had listened to Hermione in lessons regarding psychoanalysis. The "he/she doesn't listen" thing was an old classic.

Firstly though…

"Calm down, will you?" she said mildly. Heather allowed a hint of steel to filter through in her tone. Guiomer knew her well enough to know that she was serious and on her way to be really annoyed. He gulped as he took a seat.

"The thing with that complaint," she continued with the same mildly threatening tone. "Is that it usually means the one complaining is the one not listening."

Predictably, he bristled at the implication.

"Mater," he stated. "I do listen to Cailyn."

Heather only raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she said. Her tone was as sardonic as she could manage. "Okay, so let's say I believe you. What has Cailyn been complaining about?"

Guiomer opened his mouth, no doubt to give a rude retort, and he stopped short. There was a listening sort of silence and then he flushed in embarrassment.

He cleared his throat. "Mater, I'm sorry. I know you've been busy."

She gave him a knowing look. "Go and find your Cailyn," she said instead.

She kept her composure until she was sure he was out of earshot. And then she collapsed on top of her desk, almost sending the papers every which way.

"I don't think I signed up to be a marriage counselor when I signed up to be a mother," she muttered to the Form of a Building Construction permit.

Sadly, the form didn't answer her.

At least her efforts yielded some success, however small. When she went home for lunch, Guiomer and Cailyn were being civil and not yelling at each other. It was an improvement.

"Who did – " Heather started.

"Felicia," Hermione cut in. "I know, because after Cailyn went to Felicia, Felicia came to me and borrowed my psychology books."

All four of them sighed in unison.

"Run this by me again," Draco muttered. "Just what makes this so bleeding difficult?"

With a long-suffering expression, Hermione repeated the explanation she gave to all of them the moment the arguments started, "It's just an adjustment phase, along with some minor issues that usually comes up. But it's not just that, Draco. It's the clashing of a different set of cultures. Cailyn practically raised herself so she's independent. Guiomer was taught to take care of women. So of course it would be difficult."

The couple in question didn't notice the whispered conversation between the four of them. They had gotten past their stiff awkwardness and were currently speaking in whispers and giggles.

Heather found it a smidge bit unfair for Cailyn. The girl was the one at a disadvantage whenever she and Guiomer argued. Guiomer had the security that he would always have Heather but Cailyn didn't have parents, otherwise known as the sounding boards for complaints. The only thing that comforted Heather in the inequality of it was that the assistants seemed to have found a liking for her and taken up the role of marriage counselors with aplomb.

"I'll be in the Training courts for the rest of the afternoon," she told the table as she pushed away her plate. "Anyone looking can find me there."

Hermione sent her a frown. "Really? Is that wise? I, for one, know that you haven't placed a dent in that paperwork I left you."

Several occupants at the table winced at the word paperwork.

"I'll pull an all-nighter for it tonight," Heather reassured Hermione. "I haven't overseen Eomer's training in a week. We mustn't make him feel neglected."

They all murmured in assent as Heather strode away from the table. Really, having foreign dignitaries visiting were a pain, but having foreign dignitaries learning from you was a backache, a migraine and an ulcer all rolled into one.

_That, and I really need to let out my frustrations before I hurt somebody who isn't equipped to handle it_, she added in her mind.

* * *

The Training masters all gave her a nod of respect when she entered the Training court. The rest followed with the same movement. Heather approved since she'd long disabused them of the notion of _bowing_ to her. She didn't allow her men to get used to the idea of placing their necks in such a vulnerable position. She was paranoid like that, but it had earned her their respect.

"How's the little lord today?" she asked the Training master she'd assigned to Eomer. His name was Fallean.

Fallean gave a nod of grudging respect in the direction of Eomer. "Managed to disarm me. I made him work for it though. He's getting proficient with that sword."

Wow, that was news.

Heather felt like jumping even as she directed a smirk at Fallean. "Are you sure you don't want to retire yet, Fallean? A fifteen-year old disarmed you."

He gave her the look that deserved. "He's getting fast. Almost as fast as you. Whatever you've been teaching him is sticking in there and working," he said.

She allowed herself a momentary feeling of triumph for giving him a stronger measure of survival. Eomer's future wasn't as bleak as Theodreds but it was still pretty bleak.

"And the little lady?" she asked after a while.

A flush went up his cheeks. "She's getting better. Faster than her brother, even. She threw Hama on his back the last time they sparred."

There was a heartbeat of surprised silence, and then Heather broke it by chortling. Hama was one of her grumpiest and angriest Training master. He also used to be a thief and one of the best knife fighters in the entire city. On a good day, when his joints weren't aching, he could really make Heather sweat for a victory.

"Was Hama alright?" she managed to ask when she could speak without giggling.

"The only thing bruised was his pride," came the dry answer.

Heather stifled her amusement as she observed Eowyn moving against a Trainee older than her. Initially, she had wanted to learn the sword but it was all too heavy for Eowyn to lift. So Heather had her slotted in knife-fighting lessons and she had taken to it like she was born to hold knives.

"I'll take Eomer for the rest of the day. Thank you, Fallean," she told him.

The man nodded and left.

Eomer straightened up even as she approached him. When he looked like he was about to bow, heather raised an eyebrow and he nodded instead.

"My lady," he said. "I missed you to days ago."

She sighed. "Paperwork. Now, Fallean told me you managed to disarm him."

He gave a nod like an eager puppy.

Heather allowed a wicked smirk to cross her face. "Good. That means I can now upgrade those weights I gave you. You've obviously adjusted to them so you'll need further challenge."

Horror was etched on his face but he knew her well enough not to complain since she would probably – and sadistically! – double the weights instead of just adding to them.

She worked him until he could no longer stand, or manage to let go of his weapon. And then she turned to the next student – target, victim, really, the words were almost synonymous.

Eowyn had seen her coming and gulped. She had a moment's debate whether to run or not, but the Lady was _fast_ and would work her to the bone either way.

* * *

Heather was very well acquainted with her office. It was sort of inevitable when she spent most of her time in it, right next to the Training courts. She could probably count the thirteen steps it took to teach her chair and the twelve steps it took to reach the File cabinets behind her.

She was also very well acquainted with her door and the methods people had in opening it.

Guiomer, for example, was responsible for loosening the hinges in it. Hermione had a brisk sort of knocking that would be just as brisk as her manner of discourse. Draco didn't bother knocking at all, but would immediately start talking. Luna was always special and would have that rhythmic sort of knocking that almost seemed to border on Morse code.

So when that really distinctive knocking sounded on her door, she immediately knew it was Luna.

"Moonbeam!" she cried out. "What can I do for you?"

Luna gave her an absentminded sort of smile and that set alarm bells ringing in Heather's mind. Luna only got that look when she had something seriously bothering her. It meant that she was thinking of so many things at once.

"Uhm, feather?" she started. "Kreacher hasn't been placing anything in the food, right?"

Seeing as Kreacher would rather chew on his own leg than hurt any of them…NO.

"Luna, what is this all about?" Heather sighed.

"Well, that's the most farfetched explanation I could think of, right next to Cailyn being pregnant," Luna said dreamily.

Heather hummed and then the words _registered_ in her mind and then _whoa!_

"Wait, what?" she choked.

Luna nodded, ignoring the cardiac arrest going on in Heather. "I'm hearing another voice near Cailyn. I thought I was dreaming again or that Guiomer's voice had changed. Then I realized it sounded like a new soul."

Heather felt like her brain had just changed to mush. Then something rewired in her mind and unmitigated joy filtered through.

"I'm going to be a grandmum!" she exclaimed.

Luna blinked, almost like she was shaking off sleep, and then she started smiling in a more sincere manner. Almost like she just realized what that meant too.

"Grandaunt!" she remarked. "That's just brilliant!"

They exchanged smiles and laughter. Heather abandoned work since she knew she wouldn't be able to remove that thought from her mind for the whole day and be as useless as anything.

"Let's get smashed," Heather laughed.

Even if Luna was just as giddy as Heather, she was still a Healer and she gave a disapproving frown. "No. It's bad for your liver. Let's go find a pastry shop instead and indulge in the sweetest thing we can find."

Heather pouted but acquiesced since she burned off thousands of calories every time she went to the Training courts.

And then in-between killing a cake and wondering if the baby would be a boy or a girl, a thought occurred to her.

"Hey," she said. "Do you think my dearest son knows?"

Oh, the probability of that was low. Even if Guiomer was an accomplished specimen of his kind, he was still _male_ and they were unaccountably ridiculous and dense in those sort of matters.

As one, almost as though the same thought had occurred to Luna, they smirked at each other.

"Do you think?" Heather asked.

Luna nodded. "Let's go look for Hermione."

* * *

Even if Hermione wasn't a prankster by nature, she still had a highly analytical mind and she knew them very well. She guessed that letting Guiomer discover for himself would be more amusing.

"Besides," she said to a sulking Heather. "Waiting makes it better."

But what was a funny secret quickly turned real a week later when Cailyn became moody and irritable. Considering her sweet disposition, Guiomer was alarmed enough to take the matter to Luna. She had simply taken one look at his worried face and told him.

It made the women rather guilty that he didn't even seem angry at them, just extremely grateful for explaining it.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "She's just pregnant." Then his eyes widened. "Pregnant?"

Luna counted to ten…and then Guiomer's rapidly paling face turned red with happiness. Then she laughed outright when he reached to her and then swung her around like a pebble on a string in his exuberance.

When Heather heard it, she allowed herself to feel guilty for a second before shrugging it away. She knew her son's disposition best out of all of them and knew that he couldn't hold a real grudge even if his life depended on it.

Draco took one look at their faces and rolled his eyes. Then he patted Guiomer on the back and simply said, "Congratulations."

That set the theme for their party that night and it was filled with laughter. Cailyn, despite being the pregnant mother, was the last to know. Then she looked down to her slightly protruding stomach and said, "Oh!"

The twins were appalled. "You're spawning," Phobos said to Guiomer. "Soon, Haven will be overrun by little demons," Deimos added.

Dense demon was always what the Terrible Two had called Guiomer. Anyone else might have been offended, but Guiomer merely laughed and answered back, "Yes, spawning, otherwise known as reproduction. You ought to know, you're the Healers."

Then they grinned and exchanged back pats like the best of friends. The women looked at each other and sighed in unison, "_Men_."

* * *

The message came in the earliest part of the morning, when the sky was only turning a faint pink. It worried Heather slightly, because that meant the one that sent the message knew her well enough to know what time she got up for her morning ablutions.

"Who's that from, Hafny?" she asked.

The owl gave off the impression of horses and then let out a really imperious hoot as she dropped the rolled letter on top of her lap.

Rohan! Well, wasn't that worrying?

She read it and then sighed sadly. The contents were almost exactly the same as the one she received when the king called back Prince Theodred to Rohan. This time, it was for Eomer and Eowyn and she wasn't even nearly finished in training the both of them. Especially Eowyn. The girl _thrived_ when given weapons and thrown along with hunting parties, never mind the fact that she was only thirteen-years old.

"I'll probably have to write a manual for the rest of their training," Heather muttered. And then her head shot up so fast that she almost got a whiplash. "In fact, why don't I write a book about it?"

Scrambling out of bed, Heather ran to Hermione's room and forgot why she was sad in the first place. Hafny, alone in Heather's room, would have rolled her eyes if owls could manage it. Instead, she picked up the enclosed letter that was meant for Eomer and flew towards Eomer's open window.

Really, it was a wonder that Heather _managed_ Haven. But then again, she was friends with _Luna_. Enough said.

* * *

OMAKE:

**Why Eowyn slammed a Training master on his back**

Eowyn was a gentle girl but she was also very vindictive.

It was rarer that it came out, but Eowyn had a sharper sense of justice than Eomer. She turned to watch Hama the Training master pick on a new Trainee that was younger than Eowyn and did not have the breeding of kings to help him.

Eowyn scowled. "I'm gonna make him hurt," she muttered.

Eomer gave her a skeptical look, but she knew he didn't believe she could do it. But she was motivated this time.

So when the Lady came to spar with the men, she watched how the Lady placed her feet and how she balanced herself to leverage against the bigger men.

When she finally managed to do it, Eowyn became the heroine of the younger Trainees.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay. I couldn't find time to type it. I hope you enjoyed. So, these are the list of questions that people had. Anything I missed will be answered via PM.**

_**What happened with Hermione and Elladan in the previous chapter?**_

**Okay, think of it this way. Elves are very sensitive to music. Hermione's magic and her gifts makes her very perceptive to the subtleties of people. So when he started to feel the music, Hermione's magic reacted to enhance it, shocking the both of them. Just to clarify, there is no such thing as bonding in this story.**

_**Will the others visit the Shire?**_

**Uhm, maybe? Let's just see how this goes.**

_**Am I aware that Aragorn was a child during the Hobbit?**_

**Bugger. As I state it again and again, I am a fanfic author. I am not perfect. This site is practice for me, so if I make a mistake like timelines, please don't nitpick on the brushes but focus on the tapestry. I can rewrite this when I'm done, if it makes you happy.**

_**Fiendfyre on the Ring?**_

**Dude, do you seriously want the story to end that quickly? Well, I have no such qualms, but I think some of my readers will complain.. Lol.**

**I think that's all of it. To the people who keep poking me to update, I will reiterate it again, just coz you don't read all of my author notes. At the very start of this fanfic, I promised that I would finish this coz I've read too many unfinished LoTRxHP fanfics and the thought of adding this to that list makes me unhappy.**

**I may update late, but I will never abandon this.**

**~Hallen**

**P.S. On a side note, Avalance has finally reached 200+ reviews. I did a small dance when I found out. Thanks for that guys.**


	18. Is it Courtship or Entertainment?

**Is it Courtship or Entertainment?**

* * *

"_One of the world's most popular entertainments is a deck of cards, which contains thirteen each of four suits, highlighted by kings, queens and jacks, who are possibly the queen's younger, more attractive boyfriends."  
― Lemony Snicket_

* * *

The letters started arriving when it was nearly Winter.

Nobody noticed it at first, but that was just because of Cailyn's pregnancy.

Hermione had always been brilliant at keeping secrets, which was strange considering the fact that she couldn't lie to save her life. What Hermione _could_ do was misdirect you and if you talked to her with the intention of interrogating her, you'd find yourself chatting happily about Ancient Runes and it's only when the conversation ended that you'd remember you were _supposed_ to be interrogating her.

Draco was the first to notice. Inevitable since both of them worked closely together. Then he smirked when she received her fifth letter from an annoyed Maethor.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.

"Don't say anything," she pleaded.

"And why not?" he asked. "Don't have a thing to answer?"

"No," she said with exaggerated patience. "But until I have some idea of what I'm doing, don't say a thing to anybody."

"I'll hold you to that," he said.

Luna was the second to notice and that was only because the eighth letter came when they were having dinner. Heather was absent on committee business and it was only the three of them.

"Hermione," Luna started softly. "Your soul is singing. Who's writing that letter?"

Here, Draco found a loophole on their earlier agreement and answered. "It's that elf she was dancing with. He's courting her."

A rosy flush went up to Hermione's cheeks. "No, he's not. He's just interested but he's from a royal line, so don't even think about teasing me about this."

Draco chortled but kept his silence. It was Luna that spoke, "You're just being silly, Hermione. I heard his soul when he danced with you and it sang the sweetest thing to yours."

Hermione groaned and did not make a sound for the rest of the meal.

Heather was the last to find out, and that was only because of the lack of opportunity. But a week after that embarrassing dinner (in Hermione's opinion anyway), Heather's bare hand brushed against Hermione's and she startled at the images she received. And from Draco's smirk and Luna's knowing twinkle, that future was not so far away.

"Well," Heather breathed as she rubbed her hands. "Anything you lot want to tell me?"

Luna beamed at her and Draco slapped a golden coin in Luna's open hand. Hermione groaned and covered her eyes.

"Nothing ever really stays private between the four of us, does it?" Hermione muttered.

Nobody could refute that. Among the four of them, only Hermione's gift was non-invasive of privacy. But that depended on your point of view, really.

"I've gotten used to it, Mione," Heather said. "So, want to share?"

Hermione wanted to pout since the misdirection did not work. "Elladan's been writing to me," she answered instead. "It's nothing much, just an equal exchange of information."

"Courting letters," Draco said in a loud whisper to Luna. "She's in denial."

Hermione opened her mouth, intending to say No! but that would just solidify his case. Either way, she was stuck in a corner. Damn purebloods.

"Draco, don't tease," Heather scolded.

Luna gave a serene smile. "It's not teasing if it's the truth."

Why were the twins picking on Hermione? Heather had to use a lot of effort in order not to smile. It did not do to encourage the both of them.

"Guys," Heather said softly.

They both dropped the act and instead gave Hermione their complete attention. Any other person would have been unnerved.

"What's he been asking you?" Draco asked.

She fidgeted. "What I wanted most in life…My favorite food. My stance on women being warriors. What we're on now is the history of the elves."

There was a silence.

And then Draco gave a sound of surprise. "Hex me! Those _are_ courting letters!"

He sounded serious. Hermione only barely managed to stop herself from squeaking out an undignified _what!?_ Instead, she took several deep breaths and asked calmly, "Expound please?"

The purebloods in the group exchanged glances. Heather was a half-blood but even she knew what was going on due to the lessons that Griphook had forced on her.

"It's a pureblood thing," Heather eventually said. "But it seems to apply in this world too. It certainly applied to King Theoden."

"It's like a prerequisite to courting," Draco said. He sounded like he was trying to dumb down the explanation of why the sky is blue to a toddler. Heather felt his discomfort acutely.

"A requirement?" she asked and Draco barely restrained his groan of pain.

It was Luna that sighed and answered, "No, not exactly. Let's say, you wish to jump in a pool of water. You know it's clean because it has a reputation. The sensible ones would test the temperature of the water with a limb. The reckless ones would just jump in."

Enlightenment dawned on Hermione's face and Heather stopped her sigh from coming out. Because it was just strange for all of them to know something that Hermione didn't. Like, _the-world-is-ending_ kind of strange.

"He is kind," Hermione muttered. "He shared his love of music with me when we danced."

Heather wanted to give out feminine squeals of glee. Luna's twinkling eyes seemed to convey the same wish. Sadly, they had to restrain it or Draco would go bolt himself in his potions lab for a year. Ah, what they sacrificed for him.

"We saw that," Luna said.

"Mione, everyone saw you dance. And you only had eyes for each other. For a moment, I wondered if you were the one getting married," Heather said.

Hermione's face turned a really funny shade of red. "Don't be silly," she spluttered. "You can't marry someone you just met!"

Draco's smile was sardonic. "Technically, you can. There are marriages via proxy, you know?"

Hermione's hair reacted this time. It seemed to get curlier the more flustered she got. "Draco!" she said.

Heather really had to laugh at the expression on Hermione's face. That got her Hermione's attention.

"Feather!" Hermione sighed. "Really?"

She did her best to stamp down her amusement. "Sorry. I'll stop yanking your leg now. But, honestly, does he come across as a stalker, a creep, or just an interested man?"

Hermione's stiff hand gesture indicated the latter.

"Then we won't worry about it," Heather continued. "Just be sensible, alright love? Don't go and offer him the Elixir of Life."

* * *

The effect of these interactions showed themselves a week later, when the elven twins showed up.

It caused quite a stir in Haven. Because this time, the people were actually sober enough to notice that they were _elves_. Luckily, it was Meiran who came across them.

"Dear Lady," Elrohir started. "May we trouble you to ask where we can speak with the Lady of Haven and her dear siblings?"

This was delivered with a smile that could have melted icebergs and cracked glaciers. If Meiran had been a lesser woman, she would have turned to a puddle of mush by his feet and entered zombiehood and became one whose days were spent in worship of him. But Meiran was tempered by Hodur, because no matter how surely and rude he got, he was still an incredibly handsome bastard.

"Don't bother," Meiran answered instead. "Once you entered this city, she knew you were here. Stay in one spot long enough and the children will drag you to her." And then she bustled off with her basket full of potions, leaving the twins blinking.

They would have followed her but the happy chatter of children drew their attention. The Lady of Haven was being tugged by the children towards them. And more importantly, in Elladan's point of view, the Lady Enid was demurely following behind.

It was quite striking to see the difference between the two women. Though both of them moved gracefully, indicating a certain proficiency in self-defense, there was a marked difference. Lady Gryffon moved with the self-assurance of a person who knew her place in the world. She also had several bulges on her person, indicating weaponry. That didn't deter the children though, who knew to avoid them.

Lady Enid moved like she a thousand other things in her mind. It did not make her absent minded, but rather, emphasized itself when her bright eyes darted around to take in everything around her, as though she could not get enough of the world. It was done without being conscious of her movements, which screamed of a subtle confidence. Strangely enough, it attracted attention.

"Both of you!" Lady Gryffon cried happily when she was within hearing distance. Her hands spread wide as though to engulf them in her embrace.

"We are sorry for the short notice," Elrohir answered after glancing at the mute Elladan. Discreetly, he trod on his brothers toes to jerk him out of staring. The tightening of his brothers mouth told him that it worked.

"We were in the area and wished to replenish our supplies," Elladan said. He managed not to sound strangled when Lady Enid flashed him a quick smile.

"What timing!" Lady Gryffon said. "I'll take you to the market. I'm under orders to go there as well." The mischievous twinkle in her eyes was the only warning Elrohir had before she grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the market.

"My lady, what – " Elrohir started in protest.

"Come on, Elrohir," she interrupted. "What's the gossip?"

Elrohir was surprised enough that he almost stumbled. "Gossip regarding?" he asked.

In answer, she jerked her thumb over her shoulder. A quick glance behind him revealed what she meant. His brother and Lady Enid were in a world of their own. He had never seen his twin looking that serious, or happy.

"Well, I have no knowledge of it," Elrohir stated. "My brother is being extremely secretive."

Lady Gryffon gave a very put-upon sigh. "That's just sad. Even Enid isn't telling us anything."

Despite the matter at hand, Elrohir found himself smiling. "You find amusement in their courtship?"

"Where else can I find entertainment?" she explained. "And it's all I have. The next thing I know, she'll be coming to me in the middle of the night, asking advice on something your brother wrote."

Elrohir laughed at that, since he could very well imagine the bright-eyed Lady Enid doing that. "You're a treasure, Lady Gryffon."

Lady Gryffon beamed at him. "You flattering fellow."

The tour was rather more intensive than what Aragorn showed Elrohir. That as understandable seeing as it was one of the Founders showing him the city. Through the course of it, Elrohir found himself commenting on the strange shape of it, and the lack of street signs.

"But of course!" Lady Gryffon exclaimed. "Haven was built with war in mind. Anybody, any army that tries to lay siege on us will find themselves having a hard time."

He agreed to that since the dead-ends usually had forty foot walls with small bolt holes for arrows.

"We have an office that deals with tourists," she continued. "But we make sure not to give them the general lay-out."

"My lady, you're as paranoid as my brother," he remarked, thinking about Aragorn.

She probably knew which brother he meant, because she beamed at him. "Now _that_ is a compliment."

* * *

Hermione found Elladan to be one of the most interesting people she had ever met, and that was saying something since she was acquainted with Heather.

"I don't believe parchment and ink are easy to find in the wild," Hermione found herself saying. Inwardly, she wanted to smack herself for poking at him.

He cast her a quick smile that nearly had her giggling. Buggering hormones!

"No, they aren't," he agreed. "I think I fairly aggravated my brothers in insisting for frequent stops in all the towns we could come across."

Quick as lightning, he changed the topic.

"However are you related to the Lady Gryffon? If I may be so bold as to ask," he said.

Though Hermione found herself blinking at the topic he chose, she readily answered, "Not directly, I think. It's a long process to trace our family tree so we just call ourselves cousins."

"My lady Enid," he said suddenly, stopping near the middle of the road. "My brother Aragorn was told of your secret. He only told me because he caught wind of the letters. There was a breach of trust. Please, forgive me."

Okay, hold up. _What?_

And then several processes occurred in her quick mind, happening so quickly that Elladan did not notice.

Apparently, Heather had told Aragorn of a secret and Aragorn, seeing Elladan's interest in Hermione, told him. And there were only two secrets that Heather could share freely without requiring the others' permission. One being Guiomers true heritage, and the other one…

"It's alright," she reassured the distraught elf. "I'm sure Gryffon won't mind. We always knew, eventually, that we would have to share that. Having you as one of the first to know would be our first trial."

Unfortunately, he mistook the word 'trial' for difficulty. Honestly, she sometimes forgot that the language had not yet evolved that far.

"It is not bad news, for me," he said quickly. "Indeed, when you live very long, you start to seek your own kind to prevent the heartache that is mortality."

Bugger. What a mood killer.

Hermione restrained her sigh, but something must have shown up on her face because he asked her, "My lady?"

"It is nothing," she said. "Now, tell me, what have you done these past months? Have you ridden any trolls?"

His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. "No," he said. "But I rode on a warg. I was nearly plunged into a ravine."

Hermione laughed. "That seems to be the theme in these sorts of happenings: you nearly diving off a high place."

Elladan cocked an eyebrow. "What's life without a little adventure?"

Merlin, he sounded like Guiomer, or Heather on a particularly restless day.

"Tell me about it," she demanded.

And, like a gentleman, he obliged.

The city was then privy to the scene of two oblivious people having a casual stroll. If Elladan had a bit more self-awareness, he would have noticed his twin muttering under his breath a couple of streets away as he dragged the supplies he managed to garner from the market _by himself_, but alas, elves were perceptive, not all knowing.

Heather just watched the entire thing with amusement.

* * *

OMAKE:

**The Reason why Rohan cursed and blessed Heather in one breathe**

Their Quartermaster read the manual that Lady Gryffon had sent home with them. Both of them had trained under her rather closely so their nervous fidgeting was rather understandable. The Lady was rather _unpredictable_.

"This manual," the man said gruffly in Rohirric. "She made you follow this?"

Seeing as their orders from the Lady were to _Not Look At It_, and they had actually snuck a peek at the first few chapters, and adding the fact that this was their Quartermaster they were talking about, they threw away acting innocent and just nodded.

The Quartermaster smiled grimly. "Good. Then we shall have the new recruits practice these new drills. It has obviously made the both of you well enough to disarm three of my men in quick succession." Then he turned to his assistant. "Grimbold, go tell the smithy to weigh the new weapons with lead."

There was a cry of pain and agony that came from the Training courts since that day and both siblings were smart enough not to say that they had done that under worse circumstances, with a demon bearing a beatific smile and multi-colored hair watching them being pounded to the ground.

* * *

**If this ever becomes a series, and I am having an anime series running through my head with this one, then I will call this the Fluff Arc. It's so sweet and mushy that I feel like my teeth are gonna get cavities.  
**

**Kidding. **

**Hope you enjoyed yourselves. Though, in view of the 'Fluff Arc' there is only one more of it left, which is the next chapter. **

**Questions! Nobody actually had any for the previous one that I **_**can**_** answer. Seriously people, if I don't answer it the first time around, it means that I don't wish to spoil you. Waiting makes it all the more enjoyable, you know?**

**Please R&R.**

**~Hallen**


	19. Cause and Effect

**Cause and Effect**

* * *

"_When I ask how old your toddler is, I don't need to hear '27 months.' 'He's two' will do just fine. He's not a cheese. And I didn't really care in the first place."  
― George Carlin_

* * *

The baby came in the time between Winter and Spring.

Guiomer wasn't exactly useless during the childbirth. Draco had slipped calming draughts in his hip flask and he carried out Luna's orders with startling efficiency.

Draco, in his role as the not-exactly-errant uncle, settled in for playing with a set of cards and a pair of dice. Occasionally, when the orders for linens, towels and hot water temporarily ceased, he distracted Guiomer by calling out the different sword sets. When he ran out of that, because his knowledge of swordsmanship only went so far, Draco started asking about herbs and fungi. It distracted Guiomer enough that he did not wear trench on the floor and he only fidgeted. Because even if he had his mother's gift, it was one thing to see it in the future and another thing to hold a baby.

Only Phobos assisted Luna, because someone had to stay in the hospital, and Heather held on to Cailyn's hand. Hermione, because Cailyn asked for conversation, talked about the different pastries that Earth had that Middle-Earth had not yet developed. Cailyn was listening because in-between gasps, pants and pushing, she kept saying, "Really? How do you make that?"

Among all of them in the birthing room, only Luna and Phobos really worried. It amused Heather even as she held back her wince of pain when Cailyn squeezed particularly hard. Hermione and Cailyn had impeccable trust in Heather when she said that it would be alright the moment she touched her bare hands to Cailyns'. That Cailyn did not let go was just another thing.

Luna was focusing on the birth and was at the same time 'listening' to the state of the infant and the mother, so she could be excused for worrying. It had nothing to do with her faith in Heather…Right. Heather chalked it up to disbelieving healers who had to see results.

And then a loud wail rent the air.

There was a shocked silence among the adults and then there as a sudden rush to see how he looked like. Even those not in the birthing room came rushing up the stairs to get a glimpse of the boy.

Heather used her speed but she only did that to snatch the child from Luna's bloodied arms and then she plopped him in Cailyns'.

"Well?" Draco drawled from the doorway.

Luna gave a satisfied smile. "I counted all toes and all fingers. Everything is there. No problems and no complications."

"Not that, Lovegood," Draco said. "Who does he look like? I have a bet riding on this."

The women, with the exception of Luna, sent him mild looks of disgust.

"He looks exactly like his father," Cailyn whispered in awe.

Everyone ignored Draco when he groaned.

"Looks like he fell asleep" Hermione pointed out. "Cailyn, my dear. You ought to get Luna to clean him up for now. Then you can cuddle him all you want."

Heather gave a sheepish laugh at the look Luna sent in her direction. Well, maybe she was a smidge bit impatient.

"What are you naming him?" Phobos interrupted before things could get too far out of tangent.

That actually caught their wandering attention and even Luna stopped folding blankets. Guiomer scratched the back of his head and blushed while Cailyn beamed at him. '_Go on!_' she mouthed to Guiomer.

"We're calling him James," Guiomer said with his eyes on his mother, who dropped the roll of bandages she had been holding.

"What?" Heather asked dumbly.

After a quick glance at Phobos, who quickly pretended to be deaf, Guiomer said quickly, "We have two names, right? Almost everyone in this room has two names. I'm thinking that it could be like a family thing."

Everyone watched how Heather would take that. And then they relaxed when she gave a heartbreakingly bright smile.

"Oh, brilliant!" she gasped. "That's a brilliant idea." If her eyes were suspiciously bright, no one mentioned it.

"So that's his first name?" Hermione broke in. "And the second?"

"Yeah, uhmm.." he trailed off, looking extremely embarrassed. "His second name is Aedan."

Draco and Hermione broke into laughter even as Heather groaned.

"Really, son? I didn't brainwash you when you were younger, right?" she said.

"It's all those dragon stories," Luna said somberly, even as her lips gave an upward quirk. "Sir Aidan, dragon slayer."

"Well, I like it," Guiomer said defensively. "So stop making fun of my son!"

Okay, there was the temper.

Heather herded everyone outside to leave the new parents alone with their child. She stopped to give Cailyn a kiss on the cheek and to pat her son on his shoulder. Her last stop was to get her first really close look at Baby Aedan.

And in that same moment, the baby opened his eyes for the first time and Heather felt her heart squeeze. They were as green as her own, if a bit unfocused.

"Sleep well, James Potter," she whispered. "Sleep well, Aedan of Haven."

* * *

A month's paternity leave for Guiomer had Heather so busy that she barely had time to comb her hair. She had gotten so used to Guiomer taking up her workload that she had forgotten how tiring half of them were. Added to the rest of her other duties, it became a delicate art of juggling time, making her feel like a bloody circus clown. The only good thing she found in the entire thing was the discovery of several things that needed improvement.

Guiomer may have been good, but he still needed experience. A quick establishment of two assistants and three permanent errand boys had it becoming bearable.

It wasn't completely about work. Even if Baby Aedan could only wave his pudgy arms around and look cute, he was still a fussy baby. If he woke up and saw no one around him, he _wailed_ like a banshee. Cailyn, being the brilliant mother, developed a method that would allow her to keep an eye on him at all times.

She commissioned Fenny the Fox to watch over him.

Right, maybe not exactly brilliant. But she offset this momentary lapse of judgment and commissioned Kreacher too. And he looked enough like a human that the baby did not wail.

These matters, however distracting, were not enough to take Heathers attention from the visions she was receiving. So she pursed her lips and went to her siblings to call for a real Sanctuary meeting – the first in nearly seven years.

[break]

The wards of Haven, the runes that were carved deep into the earth, took their strength from wizards. Mainly, the four of them. And recently, Guiomer and little Aedan. But if two or three of its creators were not in Haven, the wards were only at half of its strength. That was so that the ones who remained would not get their strength sapped.

Her idea was to tie the wards to Guiomers blood so that it would never fall, even if none of them were there.

"Blood wards," Hermione exclaimed. "I think there are several books on that in the Library."

Luna's protuberant eyes were closed and she nodded slowly, "Yes, because there may be times that one or all of us will have to leave. We have a contingency for the people."

All of them felt the same way, anyway. Because once you save a life, it was your responsibility to see them live.

"We already have the tunnel network under the city, and the courier service. And if you want to get down on the details, there's the hawk messenger birds," Draco pointed out. He was looking at several maps and had a dozen notes scattered all around him.

Hermione sighed and Heather wanted to fidget. The meeting had been the longest that all of them had ever had in the Sanctuary. Usually, most of their ideas came quick and fast, like liquid mercury.

"What we need," Hermione said as an idea occurred to her. "Is the security that the wards would not fall as long as Guiomer's blood line survives. Even if none of them are in Haven."

Okay, now that was a breakthrough.

"And in case there are bastards, or estranged children," Draco added with amused eyes.

"The wards need to react to their entry visibly or it needs to be felt by the rest of the wizards, so that no one can refute it," Luna finished.

Heather managed a weary giggle at that. The both of them really looked at all angles. Fussy purebloods. They probably had handbooks for that.

"It will not take all of its strength from Guiomers blood," Hermione pointed out. "As it is now, with only two of them, it will cripple them, especially Aedan."

Draco nodded. "Place a clause on the runes that would prevent it happening immediately. There must be a certain age, or it could be a gradual change."

And just like that, they were back on track. Parchment flew as they traded information and schedules via wandless summoning charms. Ink splattered on several things, ending up with inky casualties that were usually hair, or clothes. Body parts were not spared, eventually. By the end of it, only Draco's hair still shone with energy and cleanliness. (How does he _do_ that?)

The end result, however, was completely worth it.

The modified ward runes ran on several pieced of parchment, connected by sticking charms. It encompassed half of their living room. It was also one of the most powerful things she had ever felt; it _hummed_ even if it was only on parchment.

"Brilliant!" Heather remarked gleefully.

Only silence answered her and that was uncharacteristic of Draco to be so quiet. Turning to her siblings, she found Draco and Luna cuddled together, asleep. Hermione was no better since her head rested on top of a pile of books, light murmuring coming from her mouth.

A quick check to the window explained why. It was nearly dusk and they had started at around dawn.

With an affectionate sigh, she casted Cushioning charms in quick succession and then summoned several blankets. After she draped it over all three of them, she got her own and settled in the sofa with another sigh.

Sometimes, their new life was hard. But Heather would see Draco laugh, Hermione expostulate on a new theory and Luna's newer, more aware smile and she knew she would not change it for all the magic in the world.

* * *

It took them nine hours arguing and debating without break and only three hours to create the new ward runes. The application only took them five hours. _That_ was an extremely long and exhausting process that Heather wanted to _evanesco_ from her brain.

The effects of it, however, took them four days to recover from.

Guiomer, of course, noticed the changes immediately. He felt the tingle and change right down to his very veins. After some hurried explanation – and some minor worry because they completely forgot to tell him the details, only that they were adjusting the wards – his expression ranged from shocked to worried.

"Are you alright then?" he ended up asking them more than once.

Heather smiled at him. "We'll be fine. We're just a little tired." Then she frowned a little. "You're not angry, are you?"

It was _his_ blood and nobody asked him. It made Heather a smidge bit guilty since it reminded her a bit of that Tournament fiasco and the Order of the Phoenix.

"My instincts told me," he reassured her. "It's fine."

Instincts was what he always called his own gift of foresight.

Baby Aedan had no complains and made their recovery very interesting. There were several incidents that occurred with the others in the four days they took turns in babysitting him. Hermione even took to the Sanctuary to recover herself in solitude. Heather suspected that it had something to do with books. The incidents regarding Draco and Luna remained a mystery but Draco twitched every time the little tyke got too close to a cauldron and Luna established a "no potions within reach of children" rule.

As for Heather, it was the first time she considered seriously cutting her hair after Aedan had choked on the fine, colorful strands after putting it in his mouth. It resulted in the baby regurgitating his breakfast all over her hair, and then bawling his eyes out.

"_You're_ crying?" she said, aghast. "What about _me?_ This is _my_ hair you vomited on, you fire breathing dragon!"

Heather ended up cutting it anyway after she shared a bath with Aedan, which he completely enjoyed. She swore he was bipolar.

"You're not developing psychological issues this early, are you?" she asked him seriously. "I swear I told Cailyn that Fenny was not a suitable nanny material."

Aedan only gurgled at her, wearing Guiomer's face and having Cailyn's smile.

Things eventually returned to normal and it soon became a common sight to see Aedan riding on top of Fenny, squealing his glee at being so high up. They all knew that Kreacher was invisible and watching over him because he never fell down, no matter how fast Fenny moved.

Still, it gave several of them gray hairs – figuratively and literally. It was one thing to know and another thing to _see_.

But then all of that got temporarily pushed a bit to the side when Lord Faramir of Gondor arrived in Haven.

* * *

OMAKE:

**A New Citizen's opinion regarding Haven**

Cabhan was very happy he had chosen to follow the rumors he had heard when he was younger. It was said that Haven was a place to go when you're looking for a fresh start and so far, everything he'd heard about was true. Added to that, there was the feeling of safety that he got when he entered the city. This reinforced the stories too, that Haven had some of the best warriors that could fight on par with the elves.

"The young Lord has finally gotten an heir," one of the gossiping old biddy's said loudly. Everyone heard and Cabhan was curious enough to eavesdrop.

"Really?" another gossiping woman asked dramatically. "I wonder if the child can wield the Sword."

Even to his ears, Cabhan could hear the capitals.

He forged on to his new house, trying his best to ignore them. He was only a block away when he saw something that made him freeze. What was a fox doing in Haven? And a really large one at that?

And then he realized that there was a child riding on top of it like you would a horse. He blinked his eyes several times and found that the image was still there. Nope, he wasn't dreaming.

Okay, maybe Haven wasn't all perfect. It probably caused hallucinations, but that was okay. At least he was safe, right?

* * *

**Aaand that is it for the Fluff Arc.**

**Questions:**

**The Dwarves in Haven?**

_**Tricky. Maybe, maybe not. Depends on the situation. I'm still plotting that bit in my brain.**_

**The fellowship bit?**

_**Okay dudes, I wrote this at around chapter one, so if you keep asking, you suck. Just to reiterate, yes, I will add the fellowship in this, but probably in a way that none of you will expect.**_

**Heather in a relationship?**

_**Okay, I will try. That's not my main goal, though. Seriously, people. Is that all you think about?**_

**Will Hermione tell Elladan the truth?**

**Uhm, first clause in a good relationship is honesty, so yes? Do you seriously have to ask that? Ah well.**

**Any others will just have to wait. I am a bit busy. For the one who requested the list, I'll add it next chapter, I promise. School just got in the way.**

**R&R.**

**~Hallen**


	20. Virtues

**Virtues**

* * *

"_Courage is the most important of all the virtues because without courage, you can't practice any other virtue consistently."  
― Maya Angelou_

* * *

Prince Theodred was one thing, but Lord Faramir was something else, and Guiomer wasn't even thinking about the difference of rank, even if Lord Faramir was only the son of a Steward.

Maybe it was the difference of their blood or upbringing, but Faramir had a presence that Theodred lacked. It was subtle and non-commanding. In the company of other domineering people, it was easily discounted. But even if Guiomer was one of the aforementioned people, he had grown up with Luna and Draco and he knew that ignoring that would come back and strike at him later. Because there was a deep wisdom in his eyes that spoke of hardship that was tempered by a will of steel and the nobility of his spirit.

Merlin he was getting poetic. But he couldn't help it, not when he was faced by _those_ eyes. And it couldn't be _helped_ that it reminded him of his mother.

"Lord Faramir, right?" Guiomer asked cheerfully. "So, what brings you to Haven?"

Faramir's eyes assessed Guiomer's colorful hair, the sword that hung at his sword belt and the easy stance he held. "I have a letter from my father for the Lady of Haven," he said. His voice was cultured and very, very polite.

Guiomer's smile did not falter. "Oh, for the Lady Gryffon then? Since you've arrived at this time, you'll have to go to the Training courts," he answered, even as he gestured for Faramir to follow him.

After a moment's hesitation, he did and both of them went to the large courtyard that rang with the sound of steel and laughter. There were only two men fighting and there seemed to be bets on going, along with lighthearted jeers, sneers and jokes. His mother was at the very heart of it, laughing along with them, dressed in loose trousers and a large tunic. Several men saw him and gave several respectful nods.

"You are the Lady's son?" Faramir asked once he saw the Lady of Haven's hair. Truly, there was no mistaking hair like that.

"Yeah. Just call me Guiomer," he said easily. When they were close enough, he called out in Latin, "Mater, I need you."

Heather's eyes shot in his direction, assessed his position and then nodded. A snap of her fingers had everyone straightening up, even Guiomer. It was pretty instinctual, especially when you tried her training methods.

"You lot," she said. She did not need to shout to be heard. "There are three more orphans who want to join the Brotherhood. When are you holding your tests?"

"Soon, my lady," a rugged looking man answered.

"Make sure that you place it on the notice boards for the orphanage, Fallean, lest I really will think your age has made you forgetful," she said, making the men break into loud guffaws.

With her business concluded, Heather headed in his direction. Guiomer tried not to smile when Faramir caught sight of the knives strapped on her person and the sword she strapped on her belt.

"The Lady fights?" he asked with astonishment.

"You cannot find a better warrior," Guiomer said with familial pride.

Heather was close enough to hear that and rolled her eyes. "Don't be modest, my son. Six times out of ten, you can beat me," she said and then her attention went to Faramir. "That design…you're from Gondor, aren't you?"

Faramir executed a small bow. "Indeed, my lady. I am Faramir, son of Denethor, of the House of Stewards."

Heathers eyebrows steadily rose as Faramir spoke. "Denethor, Denethor," she ended up muttering. "Why does that name seem familiar?"

Guiomer gave a discreet cough. Really, his mother! "I believe Aunt Enid met him in her travels, Mater," he prodded.

"Oh!" she remarked. "That man with a mind sharp enough to beat Enid in chess.

As they spoke, they were headed towards Heather's office. Discreetly, in-between the conversation, Faramir gave her the letter. Guiomer's sharp eyes noticed but he feigned ignorance and kept chattering to Faramir.

Both of them engaged in several topics while Heathers eyes scanned the written letter. Guiomer knew her well enough that it was troubling by the way her dark brows furrowed.

In the middle of describing to Faramir the delicacy of Cailyn's pastries, Heather held up a hand. There was immediate silence.

"Lord Faramir," she started. "What has your father told you?"

The answer was hesitant, which didn't quite fit the quiet confidence he had been projecting since Guiomer met him. "That I was to deliver that letter for you, nothing more. And that the letter would explain everything to you."

Heather sighed. "That letter told me that I am to teach you in the way of the sword. But by the way you hold yourself, I can say that you already know how to wield one and don't need my help. Can you give men an explanation.

Faramir's hands were clenched until his knuckles were white and he looked paler than anything. He normally was a private person, but the lack of pity on her face made him answer against his will. "My older brother, Boromir, is father's favorite. I am, apparently, too bound in my books to bring his name _honor_."

The last word was said with such vehement hatred that is sounded like a curse.

The awkward silence was broken by the door opening and Hermione and Draco stepping in, carrying several papers. Luna was behind them, holding a tray of cookies and tea. Guiomer scrambled to stand and help her serve everybody.

Heather slouched on her chair, her eyes closed as she contemplated options. The open letter sat on he desk like an omen, or a curse.

To take Faramir's mind off it, Guiomer introduced him to the newcomers and everyone settled in for tea and cookies, with some lighthearted topics. The letter was discreetly passed around and it seemed there was something with the way it was written that made all of their eyebrows crease.

When the plate of cookies was polished off, Heather sat up and finally opened her green eyes. "Your father said to keep you here for six years," she said. "His exact words were, 'keep him busy', I believe. However, your father does not have any power in Haven. You can stay in Haven, or you can go."

Color flooded his pale cheeks. "You truly are as gracious as they say, my lady. But my father's spies – "

He was broken off by Guiomer saying, "No. This town is named Haven for a reason, Lord Faramir. Anybody wishing you harm cannot come here and a person spying on you does not have your best interests at heart, so they cannot enter here as well."

It went unsaid that all of them, with the tweaking done to the wards, would feel the intentions of every person that entered the city. Nobody needed to hear that.

Faramir was too well-mannered to go boneless with relief, but it was a close thing by the way he nearly slumped in his chair.

Taking pity on him, Hermione gave him time to recover his composure by giving the papers she was holding to Heather for her signature. The pile was three inches high and Faramir was calmly sipping his tea by the time she finished.

"So what do you wish to do?" Heather asked.

Indecision was on his face. It wasn't obvious, but all of them had, at one point or another, been forced in situations that required reading subtle body language. Faramir was careful with what he gave away, but that was nothing compared to the Dark Lord.

"You don't have to decide now," Draco said suddenly. His face was just as perfectly polite as theirs but, for those who knew him well, they knew he was angry by the way his fingers kept twitching. Almost like he was itching to grab his wand.

"Thank you," Faramir said softly. "You are nothing like the rumors, my lady. You surpass them."

A quick word to the errand boy stationed outside her office sent Lord Faramir to the best Hostel.

But the moment the door closed and the ward for the one-way silencing spell activated, Draco stood up and smashed a window-pane with his magic. None of them startled because they had expected it.

Then he ran a hand through his hair several times, mussing it. A deep exhale later and he sat down again.

As Heather fixed her window, Luna asked, "Do you feel better now?"

He snorted. "No. his soul is _beautiful_. His father is a bastard not to see that."

Draco probably was seeing parallels between Faramir and himself. That partly explained his explosion. The other part, as Heather liked to imagine, was because deep down, beneath all the hedges and thorns, Draco cared for other humans. _Right…!_

"Well," Hermione put in. "We can't do anything about that. What we can do is to make his stay here as profitable as possible."

"If he'll stay," Guiomer said gloomily.

The window was fixed, Heather sat down again and said, "Oh, he will. When he gave me that letter, I wasn't wearing my gloves. Contrary to what you lot are thinking, his years in Haven will not be an exile."

As always, Hermione was the first to understand what Heather meant. Her brown eyes brightened. "Really? So what does he do then?"

Heather's smile wasn't kind. "From what I could see, he spent most of his time with you and Draco."

A contemplative silence, and then Luna laughed cheerily and Guiomer blinked several times.

There was annoyance mixed with gratitude in Draco's voice as he said, "Politics. You're telling me that I'm going to teach him politics."

"Philosophy and Pureblood Politics," Hermione added. "That's brilliant. He cannot fight his father in a battle of arms. So it's a battle of wits."

The open letter that lay on the table no longer seemed so ominous, or sad. It started to get the air of stupidity around it. Lord Denethor had sent his son in the wrong city for exile.

* * *

Heather's prediction came true and Faramir became a temporary resident in the city. He must have thought about it the entire night because he found Heather as she was doing her morning stretches by the Training courts. Seeing as no one was _insane_ enough to follow her schedule, it was safe to assume that he didn't sleep the entire night.

Quick as anything, Heather slotted him with Hermione in the late morning and Draco for the entire afternoon. Early morning was hers.

"Your father sent you here with the excuse to learn the sword. So I will teach you to fight with anything."

His eyes had widened. "Anything?"

Her smile was mischievous. "The sword is not the only weapon. Anything is a weapon. The Dúnedain taught me that. And then I will teach you to be faster than anything else."

Needless to say, Faramir started to smile by the end of her spiel. He even managed to be enthusiastic as he was forcefully pushed to tour the city, along with instructions to find an orphan if he got lost.

"Your lessons start tomorrow," she said firmly. "So you better enjoy your last day of freedom."

He finally laughed and Heather considered it a success.

* * *

Heathers concentration was broken by her door opening, lowering the silencing wards that kept everything discussed in her office private. Without looking up, she knew it was Draco.

"Yep?" she asked as she scratched away with her quill.

There was no answer, and Heather's curiosity finally pinched her, enough so that she finally looked up.

And then she gulped.

Draco's anger had three stages. The first was the petty, childish stage where he hurled barbs and insults like free candy on Halloween. The second was where he got physical and needed to break something – or if you were unlucky – someone. The last was the one where a cool mask would descend on his face and he would channel that anger into producing terrifying results.

If you're lucky, you would only receive the first stage, which was his perpetual state anyway. If Fate hated you, you'd witness the third and hope that you weren't the target.

The look she was facing now was something she'd only seen once, when one of the Death Eaters had gone too far and tried to kill his mother as a taunt.

Come to think of it, Sirius had once told her that Narcissa Malfoy had the same temper.

"I need the file for the Trade Routes," he finally answered.

Heather resisted the urge to apparate out of her office. He was so _calm_. It was a considerable contrast to the smoldering fire in his uncovered eyes.

She quickly summoned the pertinent documents, not wanting to get in his way. He caught the folder deftly, not even a tremor in his fingers. Merlin, it was as creepy as anything.

"Anything else?" she asked calmly.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Ah! Yes, you can give me leave to attend the committee meetings for the next three months."

Oh, Godric. This was involving the city. No matter how scary Draco was in his current state, no one messed with Haven, not on her watch.

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Just tell me this: will this hurt Haven, or its people in any way?"

Draco shook his head, a creepy smile on his face. "Oh, no. it won't. This won't even be noticed, but it will hurt Lord Denethor."

He spat the name out with venom and suddenly Heather understood what he was on about. Since she liked Faramir too, she didn't say anything until a though occurred to her.

"Draco," she called out as he was closing her door. He turned, his blindfold tied back once again over his eyes. "No matter what, remember that Faramir loves his father and his city very much."

He bared his teeth at her before nodding his understanding.

That night, when they were headed for bed, Draco slipped her a piece of paper to sign. It was an embargo on the silks of Gondor.

Heathers eyebrows steadily went up as she read the document. It was damaging to Gondors reputation as silk makers and would place a considerable dent in their economy, enough to be felt but not enough to cripple it. The best thing was that the rumor could not be traced to Haven.

There was also the small fact that the House of Stewards founded the Silk trade in Gondor.

She shivered because it was just the kind of vindictive shit that Draco would pull. She supposed she didn't need to ask how much he hated Lord Denethor.

* * *

OMAKE:

**What the was inside the letter**

_Gryffon of Haven,_

_I am pleased to hear the rumors surrounding your city and how well you keep the children of other nations. Rohan assured me that your city is very aptly named._

_My errant son, Faramir, is a thorn to my side. He constantly questions my orders and the gives inappropriate suggestions. It would please me if you would __break__ him of that habit. Any method would be approved by myself._

_He will be fetched by the end of six years. Please, keep him busy._

_Hail __Manwë!_

_Denethor, son of Ecthelion II, of the House of Stewards of Gondor_

* * *

**I am so sorry for the delay. I just recovered from my illness. Guys, I think you lot ought to check only on weekends, coz I don't think my schedule is gonna improve anytime soon.**

**Questions that people asked the last chapter:**

**Latent magical who would be tied to the wards in Haven…?**

_**Golly. You know, I was working on my final outline and that question kept going back at me. I will probably do something about it, but I won't answer it completely. Wizards aren't exactly a race of people in Arda. They are Istari, sent by the specific Valar. They don't have magic **__**inside**__** them, not like wizards. (If that doesn't give you a bazillion clues, read again.)**_

**What if Aedan doesn't have any children?**

_**Wow, now that's what I call looking into the future. Really far off. But anyway, Yes, there is a chance that Aedan won't have children, but then, given the fact that Aedan is as long-lived as any D**__**ú**__**nedain, the city will have protection for a guaranteed 150 years, give or take a few months or so. (Don't ask such pessimistic questions. It's really depressing.)**_

**Would Haven be safe from Saruman and Sauron?**

_**I suppose so. Most of the magic they use have the taint of Melkor, which is pretty much as dark as you can get. If they try any subtle spells, the taint is still there. So yes, Haven will be safe. (Sauron is pretty much the embodiment of Melkor, so yeah. Oh, by the way Melkor is a Valar who fell into the dark side. So Sauron is like an Istari who serves under Melkor)**_

**Is there gonna be another timeskip?**

_**I will honestly try not to. I hate doing it as much as you lot hate reading about it. Your reviews actually help me with this one. Your comments and suggestions give me an idea on what to fill in the gaps. I already know what to do at certain points, but what to do in between really gives me a headache. So please help!**_

**Where is Kreacher?**

_**Bugger. That question really makes me laugh every time. When I first started this story, someone would ask that question in every other chapter. Kreacher is still cleaning up Heather's office, the Sanctuary, the Library, and the Potions area. And he also cooks for their meals and washes all the Hospital bandages and linens. And then he disposes of the city garbage. You can think of him as the one-man city cleanup crew.**_

**That's it for this one. Doesn't the letter just freaking piss you off?**

**R&R.**

**~Lady Hallen**

**P.S. Suggestions for Omakes wouldn't be unwelcome.**


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